Just to Fill the Hole

A quickie blog entry with, alas, no pictures (as I haven't taken any except a blurry shot of the entry to the Alex Theater). But it will keep you up to date on our lives.

Friday before last (the 4th) Steve and I joined friends to take in the L.A. Gay Men's Chorus' latest offering. It was good to OK, but the theme of the performance (Only in America) was sort of an excuse to stitch together show tunes from over the last century. Some of them were very good. They staged the opening production number from "Ragtime" with full costumes and props, and it was really good (even though I've never seen the actual show).

This last week, Steve was busy at work, as the company had gotten a visit from the Fire Marshall, and there were several things that had to be done to bring the place up to code. (Nothing immense or dangerous but it needed taking care of). I myself weathered a corporate cutback from Nielsen (the parent company of The Hollywood Reporter). While yours truly came through it fine, there were nine people on staff that aren't anymore. It's always a high-stress situation, even if you're not the one axed.

This weekend we finally repotted the plants that we bought the pots for a couple weeks ago (see previous entry, "Little Things") and plan to have a burgeoning biomass on the patio in just a few weeks. The last couple days have been very hot, with temperatures in the mid-90s, but the weatherman says things will cool back down into the 60s and 70s later in the week, going back to a lovely springtime pleasantness. It's always bizarre when the weather twists around like this without a chance to ease into the new pattern.

The moms are up in Calistoga doing the spa thing. Cousin Robin Riker is back in New York. It makes me feel almost provincial just sitting here in Pasadena.

That's it. I'll keep this ugly gray block of type to a minimum. Pictures next time; I promise.

Little Things

Another week, another blog post. Some interesting things happened this week.

Here is the first decent picture I've been able to get of Steve's two cats. They belong to him, but I am treated like staff as well, because I am present and available to serve. For Christmas I got Steve (well, and the cats, too) one of those automated cat boxes that cleans the litter after every...usage. Now the cats spend all their time in the box trying to strategically plant their deposits so as to defeat the raking mechanism and stall it out (which can be done). Then the humans have to scurry down the garage stairs and rectify the situation. They succeed at their goal several times a week. It's all great fun.

On Friday I actually had face time with my mostly absent cousin Robin Riker. We got together for lunch at The Bowery, a Hollywood spot neither of us had been to before (I think it used to be called the Baked Potato or something ridiculous like that; it's just east of the corner of Sunset and Vine, a few doors down from Nickelodeon on Sunset, which used to be the old Aquarius Theater which was refurbished and reopened for the musical "Hair" back in the 1970s. Also, the ill-fated Chevy Chase talk show originated from the same location. Now you can see the water tower where they store all the slime for the Nickelodeon shows. (Actually, that's not true, but it doesn't really matter: We're in Hollywood).

Saturday Steve and I went out and shopped for new pots for the patio, since there are several plants in dire need of repotting. We found some lovely pots and picked up a couple bags of potting soil, got it all home and promptly turned our attentions to several Netflix DVDs we had received over the past week. "Spaceballs" (which Steve had never seen) and "Beowulf" (which neither of us has ever seen) were our two choices. It was much nicer than getting all dirty on the patio, albeit with sterilized soil in a bag.

Next week we're planning on seeing the L.A. Gay Men's Chorus at the Alex Theater in Glendale with a another couple. That's Friday night. Saturday, I have promised the plants, we shall do the repotting.

TTFN (tata for now).

Two Planks, Three Nails and a Jew

It's that time of year again, when we celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ by eating large quantities of pork products and worshipping the giant bunny who brings colorful eggs and cheap chocolate wrapped in cheaper foil. We buy graven marshmallow images doused in rainbow sugars, consume jellied beans and malted milk candy bird eggs; little children torture small chicks and rabbits and everyone's on a sugar high, trying not to think about trichinosis. All is pastel and sunshine, but it sure ain't Christmas, is it?

Hold on! Wait a minute. I know who the big furry guy here is, but who's the transvestite in the gaudy chapeau sitting in grandma's good TV chair? Looks German to me. And boring; not what I'd call a party guy. I know; he must be the Easter Bunny's helper. Doesn't the Easter Bunny tell us to help those who can't help themselves? This guy doesn't seem to have much to do though, does he, except look fabulous in his brocade.

Nothing much happening on this Easter except I'm at work and Steve's at home. Nothing big happening in the entertainment world this week, except cousin Robin is supposed to be back from New York this weekend. Coming in to work was a bit of fun, since I had to drive by the Hollywood Bowl, and the Easter Sunrise Service was just breaking up. Man, those Christians sure do move slow on the sabbath.

Things are good. The weather is warm...almost hot...but it should be cooling off tomorrow and through the weekend from the 80s back into the mid-70s.

So drop a line or leave a comment. That's it for now. If something interesting happens, I'll let you know.

iPhonies

Just a quick note. My foot is better. Everyone's back at work. And the big news is Steve, after much thought and contemplation, got an iPhone this weekend. Thanks to Apple Corp. for the lovely image above showing that, if one iPhone is great, five is FABULOUS!

It was touching to watch his frustration as he mounted the Apple learning curve that comes with any new device, especially one that does so much. That's about it. The weather's been really nice. I actually put weight on my ouchy toe today and it wasn't too painful. Life is good. Keep a lookout for a more extensive blog entry in the near future.

Cerro Vista Circle to Olvera Street

It's been a while since I added a blog entry. But, in my own defense, I was coming off of awards season. And if that weren't enough, I also broke my right big toe this week, so I've been hobbling around, covering for two of my coworkers, one of which was on vacation and the other of which had a ruptured eardrum.

As for awards season, it can do unsightly things to a person. Luckily, I had planned well, and had taken off the week after the Oscars.

I went up to the Moms' on Tuesday on the train. I got into Union Station over an hour early and zipped through the ticket line (which was actually no line at all), so I decided to have lunch at elegant Traxx Restaurant, since the offerings on the Surfliner are unpleasant microwaved items of dubious quality. The Traxx Reuben sandwich was messy and exotic on marbled rye, with gruyere cheese instead of regular swiss and some mystery greens with a bitter undertaste, all with a glass of Chardonnay. How classy.

If you've never taken the train up the coast from Los Angeles to San Luis Obispo, it is a great ride. You get to see some beautiful coastline cut off from the traveling public, and if you keep your eye peeled, you'll even see a few gantries on Vandenberg Air Force Base where they fire off spy satellites and cool stuff like that.

I got into the Grover Beach train station around 8 p.m. Sister Kittie picked me up and we went by the Motel 6 so I could register and drop my stuff off. (Evan had tipped me off to the place and it wasn't bad for $50 a night). Then we went over to the Moms' and visited for a bit, then I borrowed mom's car and went back to the motel.

Wednesday was kind of kicked back, and I ended up going back to the motel to nap until Rick and Candy showed up in the late afternoon. Hugs and kisses all around, lots of visiting, a fun time.

It turned out to be a conjoining of sorts, since Candy's sister Linda and her husband Andy from Seattle were coming through town on Thursday, so we would get together with them. Then my brother Jim, also down from Seattle, was in town for business meetings, so we would get to see him, as well.

It kind of turns into a blur after that, but it was all great fun. I know we went to Farmer's Market Thursday night in downtown San Luis Obispo. The highlight of the evening, shown here with Candy and Linda, was visiting Gum Alley and adding a piece for posterity, although some might think it was the great Moroccan food at one of downtown's many restaurants that was the real highlight.

I was slated to return on Friday afternoon, but it seems the train hit either a truck or farm equipment either north of Atascadero or south of San Luis Obispo. The upshot of it was the train showed up almost five hours late, which would have put me into L.A. in time to miss the last Gold Line train out of Union Station to Pasadena. So I decided to stay another evening and join Rick and Candy and Mom and Aunt Kit and David for dinner at Gina's in the village in Arroyo Grande. I got onto the morning train (7 a.m.) on Saturday and was home by 1 o'clock. I had taken a week off for vacation, so I still had Sunday and Monday off before I had to return to The Reporter. A very nice time.

The work week was not bad, considering I only worked three days. Yesterday (Saturday the 8th), Steve suggested we head out to Olvera Street (the birthplace of the City of Los Angeles), since it was just across the street from Union Station (easy to get to on the Gold Line) and he had never been there. The hook for the trip was the goal of finding stone cones to replace the ones that were ripped off at border security in Mexico (see 9-20-07 entry titled Ense-Nada).

There were enough tchotchkes for everyone, but after looking through all the shops, not a marble cone was found. We did pick up a couple tin Christmas ornaments (that are already losing their coloring) and a soft-serve cone each. Afterwards, we went out onto the plaza and watched some folks in feathers dancing to the beating drums. Then back to Union Station, the Gold Line and home.

A block from the house I tripped on the abnormally high curbs possessed by Pasadena streets and fell flat on my face on the sidewalk. I was pretty much okay, except for a busted right big toe. So I've been hobbling around … oh yeah, I started with that part.

That's all for now. I wrote most of this early in the week, but didn't get around to editing it and adding the pictures until Thursday (and you know how I feel about blogs with no pictures).

Wet Willies, Damp Divas

The award's name is Oscar, of course, but if they changed it to Willy, my headline would be very clever, wouldn't it? And I think it would humanize the affair: Imagine Meryl Streep or Michael Douglas opening the envelope and saying, "...and the Willy goes to..." I think it could work, don't you? I'm at work today, getting ready for the Oscar blitz. We've got three forms (48 pages) to move between noon and midnight today. That might not sound like much, but realize that every word, every photograph on those 48 pages has yet to be written or shot or edited. (Well, actually about eight of them have been, but that's not much, believe me.)

And it has been wet for the past couple of days. I was out on the roof of our building here at The Reporter, up on the 6th floor, looking north to Hollywood. The Goodyear blimp was hovering over Hollywood and Highland where the Kodak Theater is situated and, looking west, I could see another band of showers moving in from the sea, working their way east into the basin, about to douse the fabulousness below with yet another torrent of rain.

Getting to work today was a bit of a chore. Highland Boulevard, which I usually drive, is closed from Franklin on the north to Sunset Boulevard on the south. Hollywood Boulevard is closed from La Brea all the way to Cahuenga on the east. Yucca is closed. Hawthorn is closed. Orange is closed. Sunset is crammed with cars, as is Cahuenga. I had to head east, all the way to Gower (east of Vine on the map) before I found open travel.

Somebody just asked me how many of the nominated pictures I'd seen, and I had to admit it was none. I've seen a couple of the nominated performances in other films, but none of the big five. Even more reason to get on the screeners list here at work.

On the homefront, things are going well. We cleaned the fish tank yesterday, which is always a rather involved undertaking. The fish seem much happier, though. With the rain we've been having, we tend to stick around the house and watch DVDs a lot. Even with the tank cleaning yesterday, we went through all three of our Netflix rentals in one day. Today, I am at work and Steve will be going to his annual Oscar party at Steve and Roberto's. I've only met them at their annual Christmas party. They throw really good parties.

Beuford has migrated to beneath the greenery out on the patio. I think it takes him back to nature. Having been created on the Central Coast (in Halcyon, no less), I'm sure he misses the simple life. I considered taking him up north with me when I go to visit the moms and the cousins this coming week, but I think he'd put me over my weight limit, luggagewise.

And by the time you read this, the Oscars will be over and all the winners will be elated and everyone, winners and losers alike, will be partying until the wee hours of the morning. We will get the paper put to bed by midnight, and I'll be planning out my exit to the north.

Oscar Fever Chills

A quickie entry before I go into a meeting about Oscar Week and then into another meeting about Oscar Week. It sort of feels like Easter, since this is somewhat of a resurrection. Everyone was afraid that the writers' strike would go on all month and that the Oscars telecast would be boycotted and all those horribly famous and glamourous folks wouldn't walk the red carpet.

But that didn't happen. The strike settled and now everyone's in a frenzy. Personally, I don't think it's that big a deal. The most significance it carries for me is all the street closures in Hollywood and the fact that I have an extra-long Sunday to work next week. Sometimes I think I just don't get this town.

Nothing much happening on the homefront. Things go along as scheduled. The highlight of the week was discovering what great meat Trader Joe's sells. I will never shop for meat at Ralphs ever again. The biggest anticipation of the week is making a quiche for dinner. I made my first quiche a few weeks ago (a right of passage for every gay man) and it was a little too custardy for me (I just don't have the Julia Childs gene): This time, more eggs and less milk. Life is a cabaret for sure.

Beuford has migrated from the fountain to under the umbrella on the patio, since we're expecting bits of rain off and on all this week. It will be cool (in the 60s) and hopefully not too windy. This is Southern California; we're not supposed to have weather.

What I'm really looking forward to is the week off I have after the Oscars. I'm heading up to Arroyo Grande to visit with the moms and Cousin Rick and his wife Candy. And my sister Kittie and her husband Dave. It should be a nice decompression from the hectic world of Oscar fever.