A Summer Night in '78

My redneck father dragged my brother and I, kicking and screaming, to see our first movie musical on the big screen.

It's a choice I'm sure he regrets to this very day.

Since my brother and I are both gay and we have no other siblings ("Hey Dad, you're batting 1,000. You should have another kid and try to go 3 for 3!"), I'm sure my father would cut off his left testicle to drive a Delorean 88 miles per hour back to 1978 and stop his former self from purchasing tickets for the family to see...



He really wanted to see GREASE. I guess my father, the Baby Boomer who always told me that Senior Year of High School was the BEST year of his life, had heard all the buzz about this musical that celebrated the 50's and he wanted to spend a couple of hours reminiscing about duck-tailed hair and peg-legged jeans.

Yeah, I imagine it was nostalgia that pushed him to see it...

...well, that and the idea of seeing Olivia Newton-John in skin-tight leather pants with bleach blond hair jacked to Jesus didn't hurt either.

So, during our annual one-week of vacation in Daytona Beach, Florida, we left the Maverick Hotel...




...this is an actual picture of the Maverick Hotel's swimming pool that I just found online...I guess the internet ISN'T just for porn, after all...




...had dinner at Piasan's Italian Restaurant, walked into The Magic Shop to see what new magic tricks we could bring back to Tennessee that year, bought a new t-shirt at The Rat's Hole with our names airbrushed on it...




...and took in a game of Putt-Putt Golf on a course featuring a giant, plastic replica of the shark from JAWS hanging over one of the holes and a sign at the exit that read, "Don't feel bad if you came in last place - - you got to hit the ball more than anyone else!"...

...I know all of these details so specifically because we always did the same thing every year when we went on vacation - - we stayed at the same hotel, ate at the same restaurants and visited the same places - - my habitual nature is hard-wired...

But in 1978, on one of those su-u-mmer ni-ights (to be read a la John Travolta's singing style in the movie) after Putt-Putt, my father was pushing for our family to see this movie musical called GREASE and my brother and I were having none of it.

We probably wanted to go back to the hotel and swim in the pool. Or maybe we wanted to go back to the room and practise the new cheap-o magic tricks we bought.

Whatever it was, we of course did not get what we wanted. But as the saying goes, "Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers," because that is the night I was introduced to musical theatre.

And nothing has ever been the same since!

My brother and I left the theatre singing as much of WE GO TOGETHER LIKE RAMA- LAMA- LAMA GA- DIGGITY- DING- DEE- DONG as we could remember after just hearing the song one time. And we were dancing and singing it LOUDLY!

For a man who told me to "stop walking like a damn girl," having his young sons singing showtunes while shee-bopping down the Daytona Beach Strip was not something my father enjoyed in the least.

But his worst nightmares were yet to come.

My brother and I somehow gathered together what little power we had and made my father take us back to see GREASE, not once, but TWICE - - during our one-week vacation!

Then, when we returned to Knoxville, we saw the movie SIX MORE TIMES in the theatre. Yep, I saw GREASE NINE TIMES in it's original run.

Of course, we had to have the album and my brother and I played LOOK AT ME, I'M SANDRA DEE and THE HAND JIVE so many times that we literally wore the grooves out of that 33 1/3rd. My father begrudgingly bought us another copy of the GREASE soundtrack.

And if that wasn't enough...

...and my brother will deny this but it happened nonetheless...

...my brother and I would take my father's extra-large white t-shirts and stretch out the neck holes so that we could pull them down to just beneath our shoulders...

...then, we would put the needle on the record to play YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT...

...and we would BOTH be Sandy.

My father's dreams of either one of us playing high school football were going up in flames right before his eyes...

...and I do mean flames.

So you see, I really wish that I could be watching the probable train wreck that is NBC's GREASE: YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT - - the reality show where we, the people will pick the new Danny and Sandy for the upcoming Broadway revival of the show a la AMERICAN IDOL.

But it airs opposite DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES and I'm not giving up the girls on Wisteria Lane for some two-bit Great White Way wannabees, ok?

But I love reading all the articles and blog entries that are being written about this show.

Check out my friend Brooke's blog entry for the most hilarious commentary on this show you will ever read.

And read through Seth Rudetsky's commentary on playbill.com. My favorite part of Seth's article is the last paragraph which reads...

"My friend Tim is hoping that this show will become a hit and the FIDDLER ON THE ROOF reality show will be seen next season: AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MOTEL."

Yeah... that's damn brilliant.

If anyone happens to know Seth Rudetsky's friend Tim, please let him know that A) that is one of the funniest things I have ever heard and therefore B) I owe him one blow job for his cleverness.

The Mathematics of "The Surge"

This was Jon Stewart's response to Dubya's "surge" of 20,000 troops in Iraq last night on THE DAILY SHOW:

"Twenty thousand troops? We have one hundred and thirty thousand there now.

That's only a 15% increase. That's not a surge, that's a gratuity. That's a tip.

And it's not even a good tip. It's a lousy one."

My New Imaginary Boyfriend

My boyfriend TiVO and I are going through a rough time.

I don't ask much from him. Just record the shows that I want to watch, make some suggestions for things I might like, don't make me sleep in the wet spot - - pretty low expectations.

But when I went home to Tennessee for Christmas, I guess he felt abandoned or something...

...maybe I should have gotten him more memory for as a present before I left, I don't know...

...but when I came back, the one television event that I needed for him to record while I was away... well, Mr. Indirect Aggression TiVo recorded the wrong channel...

...and ya'll, the show was Dolly Parton receiving her Kennedy Center Honor.





Ever since then, he's been recording the wrong channel more and more often. I've talked to him, I've communicated my feelings without placing blame, but it's not getting any better.

I think it's be beginning of the end.

But to quote ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD...

"An exit is just an entrance somewhere else."

Out walks TiVo. In flies Powerboy.

Here he is with Supergirl. That's how we met. She introduced us. Nice girl, that Kara Zor-el.

You see, I was on the bus yesterday reading a new comic book title that I decided to give a try - - issue #13 of SUPERGIRL.

And there Powerboy was... in all his ink-and-color hotness.

We don't know much about him so far - - other than he has arms like tree trunks, a really great stylist and a hairy chest that rivals Hawkman's...

Check out the Hawkman on the right...

...see that clipped, hairy chest...

That's what I'm TALKIN' ABOUT!!

But back to my potential new imaginary boyfriend...

Maybe Powerboy is another refuge from Krypton. Or maybe he's from Kandor. Or maybe he's Mon-El's high school swim team buddy (I can dream, can't I?), but all I'm saying is this...


If DC keeps featuring Powerboy in art like this upcoming cover of SUPERGIRL #15...



...you can bet your sweet ass I'll be buying SUPERGIRL for a long, LONG time!

P.S. For those of you who don't know your Krypton from your Kandor or your Mon-El from your Mxyzptlk, I have included the links to Wikipedia info on some of the less well known people, places and things in the DC Universe. For those of you who don't know and don't care to know, don't judge me. I live alone.

The Cheshire Cat in the Hat

Ok folks...

...here it is...

...be gentle...

This is from the photo shoot we did back in the summer for SEUSSICAL. All of the picturs of The Cat from the Dr. Seuss book show him with this wide, no-teeth-showing grin.

My new Hat is stiff and my costume is a black tux jacket with tails over black over-alls and white platform shoes...

...exactly like the ones Pee-Wee Herman wore in PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE.

But ya'll...

...that smile on my face is what my grandmother would call a "shit-eating grin." Damn.

Still Here

In her one-woman show, ELAINE STRITCH AT LIBERTY, Stritchy talks about seeing women in their 40's singing I'M STILL HERE, Stephen Sondheim's landmark song from the musical FOLLIES. At 40, they are far too young to sing and understand the song. As Stritchy puts it...

"I'm still here? Where've they been?"

I can understand why they want to sing it, though. The song speaks to all artists, regardless of gender or art form or age. It's our little anthem about living through a life of being the focus of enormous attention one minute and being forgotten soon after.

And beyond that, I'M STILL HERE resonates on so many other levels.

My favorite moment of the movie POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE is when Doris (Shirley MacLaine) is singing the song at a birthday party she's throwing for her daughter Suzanne (Meryl Streep) who has just gotten out of drug rehab.

Doris/Shirley moves down to Suzanne/Meryl, takes her daughter's face in her hands and sings the line "I got through all of last year..." directly into Suzanne/Meryl's eyes and changes the meaning of the lyric from the stuggles of her life to her struggles with her daughter's drug addiction and recovery. The reaction shot given by Meryl Streep after that moment is breathtaking.

But no matter who identifies with the song, I'M STILL HERE will always belong to Yvonne de Carlo.

Yvonne played Carlotta in the original cast of FOLLIES on Broadway and her original song was CAN THAT BOY FOXTROT! In it, she sang about meeting a grocery clerk who didn't look like much but (as the lyric goes),"Boy... can that boy ffffffffffff- -oxtrot!"

I don't have to spell out what the audience THOUGHT Ms. de Carlo was going to say instead of "foxtrot," do I?

But that song, funny as that is, was just a one-joke song. I believe it was Michael Bennett who asked for another song in it's place.

So, Sondheim talked to Yvonne, listened to her stories about her career and wrote I'M STILL HERE...

...about her life.

And from what I heard, Yvonne never much cared for other people singing I'M STILL HERE.

"That's MY song," she would say.

Yvonne de Carlo passed away on Monday.

So, for those of you who only think of her as Lily Munster...

...here are the lyrics to I'M STILL HERE. This is, and will always be, Yvonne de Carlo's biography. It will keep her with us.

I'M STILL HERE

Good times and bum times, I've seen them all and, my dear,

I'm still here.

Plush velvet sometimes, Sometimes just pretzels and beer,

But I'm here.

I've stuffed the dailies In my shoes.

Strummed ukuleles, Sung the blues,

Seen all my dreams disappear,

But I'm here.

I've slept in shanties, Guest of the W.P.A.,

But I'm here.

Danced in my scanties, Three bucks a night was the pay,

But I'm here.

I've stood on bread lines with the best,

Watched while the headlines did the rest.

In the Depression was I depressed? Nowhere near.

I met a big financier And I'm here.

I've been through Gandhi, Windsor and Wally's affair,

And I'm here.

Amos 'n' Andy, Mah-jongg and platinum hair,

And I'm here.

I got through Abie's Irish Rose,

Five Dionne babies, Major Bowes,

Had heebie-jeebies For Beebe's Bathysphere.

I lived through Brenda Frazier, and I'm here.

I've gotten through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover,

Gee, that was fun and a half.

When you've been through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover,

Anything else is a laugh.

I've been through Reno. I've been through Beverly Hills,

And I'm here.

Reefers and vino, rest cures, religion and pills,

And I'm here

Been called a pinko Commie tool,

Got through it stinko by my pool.

I should have gone to an acting school. That seems clear,

Still, someone said, "She's sincere," So I'm here.

Black sable one day. Next day it goes into hock,

But I'm here.

Top billing Monday, Tuesday you're touring in stock,

But I'm here.

First you're another slow-eyed vamp,

Then someone's mother, then you're camp.

Then you career from career to career.

I'm almost through my memoirs. And I'm here.

I've gotten through "Hey, lady, aren't you whoozis?

Wow! What a looker you were."

Or, better yet, "Sorry, I thought you were whoozis.

Whatever happened to her?"

Good times and bum times, I've seen 'em all and, my dear,

I'm still here.

Plush velvet sometimes, sometimes just pretzels and beer,

But I'm here.

I've run the gamut. A to Z.

Three cheers and dammit, c'est la vie.

I got through all of last year and I'm here.

Lord knows, at least I was there,

And I'm here!

Look who's here!

I'm still here!

Kate Quotes

There is a small part of SEUSSICAL: THE MUSICAL where I, in all my Cat in the Hat glory, echo the lines of a song being performed Mayzie LaBird as played by the hilarious, beautiful and multi-talented Kelli Morgan.

I just repeat the words, "How luck, how lucky you are," and for some reason, the script says that the Cat does so using a Louis Armstrong impersonation.

Sounds easier than it actually is. You see, my Louis Armstrong sounds more like Neil Armstrong... on the moon... talking through a bad 60's microphone... with lots of static.

That, coupled with the fact that there really is no friggin' reason why I'm singing like Louis Armstrong at that moment makes it SO not funny.

So, one night I was just fucking around with it and decided that if it was going to be an impersonation that is not linked to character or plot or motivation, I would do an impersonation that would at least make me laugh...

So, I did Katharine Hepburn.

And I really didn't hear any laughter from our director Ernie Nolan, or anyone else in the house. I put it Kate aside and went back to my pathetic Louis Armstrong in the next run.

Here's the note I received from Ernie about that:

"I think the Hepburn idea is so you and makes the Cat... Stephen's Cat."

So, I will be doing an impersonation of Katharine Hepburn dressed as Dr. Seuss' The Cat in the Hat.

"Oh, the thinks you can think," indeed

So, here's the deal. I need ideas for little throw-away lines to say after the "How luck, how lucky you are." Something quick, funny and easily recognizable as a Katharine Hepburn movie line.

"I'd hang you from the nipples but it would shock the children" from THE LION IN WINTER is NOT an option. This is children's theatre, folks.

As for others:

"The loons, the loons." - Got it.

"You old poop." - Done.

"The calla lilies are in bloom again." - SO in my pocket.

"Debris, debris, debris" (pronounced by Kate as "DEH-bree, DEH-bree, DEH-bree") - Already in the rolodex.

Other ideas, folks?

I could say that fabulously bitchy line that Kate said to Barbara Walters in an interview. Kate despised Barbara for trying to get her to talk about Spencer Tracy, so when Barbara made mention of the fact that Kate was one of the first women to ever were slacks, Kate replied...

"Yes, I wear slack. I love slacks. I'll wear slacks to YOUR funeral."

God took Kate and left us with Ms. Walters. It ain't fair. I just ain't fair.

The Changin' Times

Last night in my post about the ridiculously sublime...

(or is is "sublimely ridiculous?")

...video of Lauren Bacall from the Broadway musical APPLAUSE performing the song BUT ALIVE and featuring more homosexual characters dancing and singing than I personally have had sex with...

...well, this year anyway...

In the post, I mention that BUT ALIVE is much better musical theatre than "a pasty-faced white boy dancing around with a fake guitar surrounded by dancing dog-clowns telling us that the times, they're a changin'."

If you didn't get the reference... well, A) you're straight, but B) don't feel out of touch with the current Broadway scene because the Bob Dylan musical entitled, THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN', lasted about as long as dangerous erection brought about by Viagra.

You see, four hours of wood is thought of as impressive and perhaps even life-threatening (to the man AND his partner!), but when four hours is the amount of time between a Broadway musical's Opening Night and it's Closing Notice, it signals a flop that makes Ben Affleck think to himself, "Well, GIGLI wasn't really THAT bad."

This clip from THE LATE, LATE SHOW WITH CRAIG FERGUSON shows you just how far we've come from OKLAHOMA.



Bravo, Craig! And by the by, if you're not watching Craig Ferguson late at night, you're missing out. He's really amazing and has guests that are beyond the usual celebrity circuit concerned only with pushing this Friday's movie opening or sweeps week on a CBS sitcom. Check him out. He's actually one of the few things that my step-mother and I agree on! He's THAT GOOD!!

THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN'
R.I.P.

Alive!

YouTube is proof that God exists.

And he LOVES musical theatre!!!!

A few years ago, my friend Peter gave me a bootleg tape of a musical that... well... let's just say that the first time I heard it - - Hell, the first time ANYONE hears it - - the first thought that comes to mind is, "No fuckin' way. This is a joke, right?"

It's the same feeling I had the first time I saw the SOUTH PARK episode with Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo.

Yeah, that explains it, doesn't it? It was THAT feeling.

Jaw open. Eyes glazed over. Uber-shock & awe.

The musical was APPLAUSE! It's the classic Bette Davis film ALL ABOUT EVE set in 1970 (the year the musical opened on Broadway) starring Lauren Bacall in the role Bette made famous - - Margot Channing.

Now, if ALL ABOUT EVE set in 1970 made you flinch, these next few tidbits might induce an epileptic seizure.

Margot's dresser, named "Birdie" in the movie and played by Thelma Ritter, was changed into a male character named DeWayne. And being a great Broadway star's dresser, the character of DeWayne was gayer than a clutch purse on Tony night.

So naturally, the night Margot meets the homely Eve Harrington...

...Eve, Eve, little Miss Evil... who will later try to steal her career AND her boyfriend...

...if you don't know the movie, I can't help you... you must be living in a Red State or something...

...anyway, the night Eve meets Margot is the Opening Night for Margot's new Broadway play and instead of going to the after-party, she convinces DeWayne to let them tag along with him...

...to a gay bar... naturally...

That doesn't sound too very frightening, I know but to a Broadway audience in 1970 - - only one year after Stonewall - - it must have felt just this side of OH, CALCUTTA.

But in 2007, it almost sounds like the perfect fit for a musical.

Broadway Star + Back-stabbing Ingenue + Gay Bar Filled with Dancing Boys = THE ULTIMATE SHOWTUNE!

But when you add in Bonnie Franklin, a song called FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELT where everyone sings a car horn sound over and over ("Eh-eh-eh"), and Bacall speak-singing a rickety score and towering over the rest of the cast and nearly every set piece, it's got CARRIE: THE MUSICAL written all over it.

And yet somehow, the show really works and is a hundred times more entertaining than some green chick screaming about defying gravity or a pasty-faced white boy dancing around with a fake guitar surrounded by dancing dog-clowns telling us that the times, they're a changin'.

And even though we're 37 years past the Opening Night of APPLAUSE and my bootleg tape of the show is no longer in my possession, we've been blessed with YouTube, which can show us just how glorious an opening number set in a gay bar can be...



Glorious. APPLAUSE manages to be sublime AND ridiculous AT THE SAME TIME.

"Partly Jane Fonda and partly Jane Austen," indeed.

My Boyhood Celebrity Look-alikes

Ok, so I got a little carried away with the Celebrity Look-alikes web site.

I uploaded a picture of me when I was... well, it was taken just a few short years ago...

Anyway, one of the options was to write captions under each of the celebrity pictures that most resemble me as a young lad.

And the best part is that my comments pop-up in the form of a word bubble, so it looks like Young Stevie is saying all these things.

Ok, I just explained a joke which of course means it ain't funny, but enjoy the results of my celebrity look-alike labor, nonetheless.

http://www.myheritage.com

I think we should upload pictures of celebrities and see if this facacta web site will match them with themselves - - or screw up and say that they most resemble Shirley friggin' Temple, too!

Happy Birthday, Big E!

Today is Elvis Presley's birthday.

I'm not using the present tense because I think he's still alive...

...although his middle name IS misspelled on his grave marker... explain that non-believers!!!

I use the present tense because Elvis' effect on our music and entertainment and culture is still very much with us every single day.

I know that many people write off Big E as an over-weight, mumbling guy in a rhinestone polyester jumpsuit doing faux-karate moves, but take a quick look at this clip and learn why we Elvis-lovers keep this man's memory alive.

This is taken from an incredible documentary called ELVIS '56 which chronicles the first year or so of Elvis' career. This is Elvis' first television appearance and the clip begins with an act that was on the same show before Elvis that night.

Watch the xylophone girls and tuxedo-wearing tap dancers and then take in Elvis singing SHAKE, RATTLE AND ROLL. You'll see that there a clear delineation in modern music and culture - - everything that came before Elvis and everything that came after him.

That's over 50 years old and is still hotter and more revolutionary than almost anything "cutting edge" we're hearing today.

So tonight, say HAPPY BIRTHDAY to The King of Rock and Roll by fixing yourself a nice, plump fried peanut butter and banana sandwich and wash it down with an RC Coke Cola.

And for dessert, have a good ole' jelly donut while you watch Elvis' '68 Comeback Special.

It don't get no better 'n that!

My Celebrity Look-Alikes

As we all know, the internet does not lie.

And happily, I agree with the internet's thoughts about my attractiveness wholeheartedly!

Ok, I love that I look like Jude Law, but he reportedly has a penis the size of a baby gherkin pickle, so I'm not happy about that...

...but since I also look like Ewan McGregor and his massive member is legendary in certain circles, I think that the two cancel each other out...

...leaving my own size exactly as it is... Just Right!

And ya'll, who else could pass for Beyonce Knowles AND Hillary Rodham Clinton?!?!? I'm your Dreamgirl AND possibly your next President! Go know!

Now, will someone tell me who the Hell is Selma Blair?

And more importantly, does anyone have any more pictures of Ricky Ullman? How cute is that little twinkie, huh? As Will Farrell says in TALLADEGA NIGHTS, "Please, be over 18."

"I feel like chicken tonight... like chicken tonight..."

Epiphany

Yesterday, January 6th is known to many as Epiphany.

Twenty-four years ago yesterday is a day I always remember as the day that my father left my mother.

Well, not "always remember," because yesterday, I didn't...

I forgot to remember.

I remember January 6, 1983 extremely well. For years, my parents fought - - loud, screaming fights - - but only in private, never in public.

My father, mother, brother and I were the model family at PTA meetings, at the Little League baseball field, at my chorus concerts and at family functions, but as soon as the garage door closed, my parents fought.

And there was never really any rhyme or reason to it.

My mother was severly manic-depressive and no one ever knew what her mood would be from minute to minute. And my father, whose parents never raised their voices to each other throughout their entire married lives together, would let the rage of being yelled at build up so much that when he unleashed it, anything was possible. Anything.

I learned to function in unexpected chaos.

But when I came downstairs for breakfast on Janaury 6, 1983, it was quiet.

Dead quiet.

After years of living in the middle of a screaming, yelling war zone, the sudden quiet terrified me.

As my father drove me to school, I remember telling him to be careful - - that something was going to happen. And later, when I saw a student from the principle's office walk into my music class with a note, I immediately knew the note was for me - - to excuse me from school for the rest of the day.

I knew my father had left my mother.

My father checked my brother and I out of school and took us to a hotel on Papermill Road - - the Holiday Inn. I remember watching HART TO HART and enjoying the adventure of staying with him in that hotel. I felt so incredibly guilty for enjoying that night when I saw my mother the next day.

You see, after my father dropped me off at school that January 6th, he returned to our house and once again, he fought with my mother. The fight escalated. My mother swallowed a bottle of pills and slit her wrists with a knife, kneeling in front of him in the middle of our kitchen. It was her final desperate act to keep him with her in that house.

He walked out and picked up my brother and I from school.

He didn't tell us what had happened and I don't remember even asking. All I knew and all I cared about that night, January 6, 1983, was that it was over - - all the fighting and screaming and yelling and anger and hurt and me wishing and praying to God that the ground would swallow me whole so I wouldn't have to be in the middle of my mother and father's hatred for each other.

I didn't know then that divorce isn't something that ever stops affecting a family. I am eternally grateful for my parents' divorce, but it affects me every day of my life - - my relationships, my friendships, even celebrating the holidays with my family is still problematic because of how I cope with my family splitting in two.

For years after that day - - even after I moved to Chicago - - my father would call me up on January 6th and say, "Do you know what today is?"

He never needed to remind me. I always remembered. And it is extremely fitting to me that the day my father decided to leave my mother is known as Epiphany.

In Western churches, Epiphany celebrates the coming of the wise men bringing gifts to visit the Christ child, who by so doing "reveal" Jesus to the world as Lord and King.

The date of January 6 was selected because, according to some ancient reckoning, the day began to grow longer on that date and so it was celebrated by pagans as the day of victory of light over darkness.

Light over darkness. The perfect way to describe the end of my living in the middle of my parents' explosive hatred for each other.

And also the perfect way to describe yesterday.

Because for the first January 6th in twenty-four years, I didn't remember to grieve for the death of my parents' marriage.

Maybe that means I'm growing up. Maybe that means I'm moving on. Maybe that means I've let go.

Whatever it means, I'm so happy that I forgot.

My Kind of Action Figure

Brandon...

What are you trying to say to me, Brandon?

You don't have to ask me to touch you there, Supes.

I'm already there, baby...

Trust me...

I'm there...

Two New Blogs for You and Me

Yesterday, I sent out the official notification that I am changing my personal email account from America Online to gmail.

It has taken me a long damn time to do this. It was a hard decision since I've had my AOL screen name for most of my time here in Chicago...

...and when I moved here, our boys were in Korea...

...Ike was in Mamie...

What the Hell is Mamie looking at, anyway...

Well back to the subject at hand...

Be sure to change your address books to my new email address: stephen.rader@gmail.com.

In the process of sending out word about this change, two friends sent me links to their blog which I had added to my Links section. Definitely check them out.

First there is Angel who is a performer, a dancer, an activist, a writer and all-around hero to the gay and lesbian community here in Chicago. He's truly incredible.

Also, there's my friend Chris who I met taking a stand-up comedy class a couple of years ago. He had decided to blog about a very personal struggle he is going through and I am so proud of him for writing about it and sharing it with the world. Send Chris all the good energy and prayers you can. He's an amazing man.

A Very Fudge Pack Holiday Picture

Here's a great picture of The Fudge Pack from our little get-together at Philip's place right before the holiday.

Starting from the far left and going clockwise, there's Mark, me, Philip, Joe, Dan and Eric.

What IS The Fudge Pack, you ask? Well...

Since a bunch of us homos were hanging out quite a bit a year or so ago, I mentioned to Philip that we were becoming something of a queer Rat Pack - - the 60's group of pals who ruled over Las Vegas (Peter Lawford, Sammy Davis, Jr., Frank Sinatra, Joey Bishop, and Dean Martin).

And what else could a queer version of the Rat Pack be called but The Fudge Pack??!?!

To my understanding (and correct me if I'm wrong, fellas), but our counterparts in the Rat Pack are as follows:

I'm Frank Sinatra - - because I'm the oldest, beyotches!

Philip is Dean Martin... which is odd since Philip rarely drinks...

Joe is Sammy Davis, Jr.

Mark is Joey Bishop

and Eric is Peter Lawford

Technically, Dan is not a member of The Fudge Pack, but since he's Eric's boyfriend, we're letting him in join via our "Shirley MacLaine" slot. Shirley MacLaine, Angie Dickinson and Juliet Prowse (damn... what a trio, huh?) were often referred to as the "Rat Pack Mascots."

Fudge Pack Mascot. That title sucks, Dan. We'll work on it...

By the way, our little group is achieving some degree of well-deserved celebrity. We have actually been approached at parties and been asked by total strangers, "This sounds odd, but - - are you a Fudge Packer?" and I don't think they were just asking us that question for the obvious reason.

My 30 Dollar A Week Habit

No, I'm not talking about Cold Stone Creamery!!!

I'm in a huge comic book phase once again.

If you didn't pick up this week's issue of DC's 52 featuring Luthor watching Metropolis in chaos...

...or Marvel's CIVIL WAR #6, you are truly missing out!

So in the middle of my current comic book craziness, I stumbled across this clip and I had to not only share it, but also post a few pricess comic book covers and revised comic book panels for you and your's.

First, this clip of how the first Superman movie SHOULD have ended...

Hy-larious! But truth is always stranger than fiction. Check out this cover from BATMAN years ago...

Where exactly IS Robin's face? What is Robin trying to tell us? Maybe this panel from another BATMAN comic explains it a little too well...

Well, Batman may not be gay enough for Robin, but what in the Hell DOES Gordon have for Robin that's he's keeping "up his sleeve?" Sounds like Gordon means to give Robin exactly what this villan is dishing out to Spider-Man...

Err... ummm.... yeah... Now you know why I read comic books. Yeowza...

But this last piece really made me laugh. This Batwoman panel has been altered with regards to certain... ahem... changes in orientation that have occured recently, but I loved the end result, nonetheless.

For those of you who don't know, this is the reason that Bruce Wayne chooses the symbol of the Bat for his crime-fighting alter-ego...

This little piece that I found on politedissent.com shows a similar yet decidedly different decision made by Kathy Kane - - the future Batwoman...

And as those of you who have been reading 52 know, what a damn HOT lesbian she has become. Yum...

What Burns My Ass 2

Today, I was walking into work and I saw a person do something that pissed me off as it always does when I see someone doing this certain thing. So, that means it's time to add to my..

List of Things That Burn My Ass!

We've only had one other one so far and it was:

1) Fundraising Bullies Who Stop You In The Middle Of The Block

Today, I am adding to the list with...

Smokers Who Think That Our Streets and Sidewalks Are Their Personal Ashtrays

Now, let me start by saying that I am the nicest non-smoker you will ever meet. I think that the new bans on smoking in bars and restaurants are ridiculous.

Non-smokers talk constantly about second-hand smoke, but if you don't like being around smoke then DON'T GO TO BARS WHERE THERE ARE SMOKERS! Why should the world have to be sanitized for you? There are plenty of bars and restaurants that are No Smoking - - go there!

By making EVERY PLACE No Smoking and forcing smoker to stand 15 feet away from building entrances, you are creating a dangerous prescendent of Rules and Regulations "For Your Protection" that will come back to bite us all in the ass.

So smokers - - I'm not against you smoking at all.

I am against you not having the ability to put out your cigarette IN AN ASHTRAY!!!

By carelessly flicking your butts (so to speak) onto the pavement, you are litering our streets in the most horrific way.

If I ate my lunch on a park bench and then took the sandwich wrapper and plastic utensils and threw them on the ground at a whim, you would call that litering. I'll bet I would make that American Indian from that commercial cry just like he did in the 70's.

What the fuck is the difference in me throwing the container from my Filet O'Fish onto the ground and you tossing your cigarette butt into the street?

Not a damn thing.

So smokers, please remember...