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Guy stuff.

An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Charging the choir for a sermon

Call me cynical – you wouldn’t be the first! – but I’ve got some issues with this Lincoln Center Anti-War reading next Monday. And no, it’s got nothing to do with it being ON a Monday. I’ve encouraged people to check it out and even sent it out to our mailing list. It was actually a response to that mailing from a friend in Seattle that got me thinking, though.

The CONCEPT is wonderful. A bunch of poets covering the spectrum from establishment to street coming together to speak out against the war is a good thing. A VERY good thing. But what’s with the $10-100 ticket charge? I’ve looked around the Not in Our Name and Lincoln Center web sites and read through the promotional emails I’ve been sent and there’s no mention of this being a fundraiser. Who’s this money going to?

My wife – former event planner that she is – says Lincoln Center is an expensive place to hold an event. I don’t doubt it and that’s what confuses me even more. It makes no sense to me that you’d hold an event like THIS somewhere that isn’t donating the space, much less an expensive one. Who are they trying to reach out to? Why isn’t this a free event held somewhere that could ensure maximum exposure? Even @ $10/ticket, it’s a POETRY show, and all you’re doing is preaching to the choir if that’s your audience.

Don’t accuse me of pulling a post-9/11 O’Reilly on a good cause, either. Seriously. If it’s a fundraiser, it should say that SOMEWHERE. If it’s not, then it’s nothing more than capitalistic opportunism. If the poets themselves are being paid for reading at this thing, shame on them. There’s several names on the lineup that I know personally, some of whom I respect greatly. There’s at least one whose politics have proven rather convenient over the years, aka if there’s cameras, he’ll be there.

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Continue ReadingCharging the choir for a sermon
An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Quien es Dame Edna?

Dame Edna… My goodness.

If I get one more email sent to me about boycotting Vanity Fair because Dame Edna made racist comments about Latinos, I think I might lose my mind! I mean, really!

First of all, it’s a dipshit magazine with great photos and the occasional good article, packaged for people that think they’re too good for…well, People! Second, it’s obvious that anyone that forwards the email in question neither reads the magazine or has a clue who Dame Edna is.

How exactly do you boycott something you don’t patronize to begin with anyway? And how do you convince those that actually DO patronize it to boycott when they know from jump that you don’t what the hell you’re talking about?!?!

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Continue ReadingQuien es Dame Edna?
An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

The signs were everywhere

My Daily Horoscope for February 05, 2003 (courtesy of AstroCenter.com & Yahoo!): “Dear Guy, As a Leo you are probably quite comfortable in a group of people, Guy. Your gregarious nature tends to attract a lot of friends. But today you might feel a greater need for some time to yourself. Don’t hesitate to tell those around you that you need to be alone for a little while. Feeling the need to perform every day can wear a person into the ground until they reach a point where acting up becomes so second nature that even they don’t know what they’re really feeling. Take some time to yourself.”

I’ve always enjoyed reading horoscopes for their entertainment value and random appropriateness but the last few months of 2002, I became hooked on this particular series of horoscopes. While the Virginia experiment was coming to a head, the ‘scopes were getting eeriely more specific, like these people were watching me and trying to send me warnings of the approaching iceberg.

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Continue ReadingThe signs were everywhere
An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

5 Past 13

The first six months in Virginia weren’t so bad but, when August came around and I missed my first Nationals since 1998, things began to shift. I came up to visit in the beginning of September, hosted the show that Monday and realized how much I missed it all. I’d not only walked away from my baby, which was hard enough, but I’d walked away from my friends. Mondays were my second home, my living room that welcomed all sorts of random people in every week, mixing with the people I held most dear.

When we decided to come back, I knew a big part of getting myself back to normal was getting myself back to Monday nights. When we left, I was extremely burnt out and desperately needed a break. I realized later that it was predominantly my increased involvement on the national scene, and the resulting frustration, that had finally pushed me over the edge. The whole PSI experience left me even more cynical and jaded than usual, but with the proper distance, I realized what a small part of my world it really was. It was the poetry that had gotten me in the beginning – seeing how it could change someone’s life, giving them a voice they never knew they had, or just never knew how to use. That’s what was important. The rest of it was either icing on the cake, or the crusty burnt shit stuck to the pan.

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Continue Reading5 Past 13
An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

The Virginia Curveball

Sometimes life can throw you some curveballs. You expect it. It’s the fastballs that get you, though. The high heat an inch from the tip of your nose that makes your life flash before your eyes. Those are the ones that knock you on your ass.

Two weeks after we got to Virginia, my wife realizes she’s pregnant. High heat!

It threw us for a serious loop that we’re only now coming out of. For those wondering how the hell I ended up working as a Financial Advisor, there you go. The call came out of nowhere – a recruiting call via Monster.com – and I was made an offer two weeks later and it came with immediate benefits. The pay sucked but there was that whole building your own business angle that was appealing. It meant paying some serious dues the first couple of years but, with a baby on the way and one $1000 trip to the ER under our belt, beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, I’m always up for a challenge and the daunting task of getting three licenses – Series 7, 66 and Life & Health – in 12 weeks ranked up there with the best of them.

The exams were a bitch, probably the toughest I’d ever crammed for, but I got through them solidly, scoring 87, 85 and 86, though I forget which were which. Not bad for having ZERO prior financial experience. Their training resources were everything they said they’d be. Unfortunately, that’s about all that was.

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Continue ReadingThe Virginia Curveball
An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

And so it begins…

Ahem…1-2, 1-2. Mic check. So, this is Blogger? Cool.

A year ago today, I loaded a U-Haul truck full to the back door and we headed south on I-95, Virginia or bust. It’s been about six weeks since we’ve been back in NY so I guess you’d have to say bust! Seriously, though, the truth of the matter is that while our intentions were good – slower pace to raise Isaac, spend more time with each other, etc – we were at least 10 years ahead of schedule for the supposed American Dream. Michele K. put it best saying “backyards are overrated.” I like to say that, while the grass was greener, the trees were stunted and the air a little stale. To each his own, though. It’s not a bad place, just wasn’t the place for us.

Some good things came out of the move, though, not the least of which is my daughter, India, born in Norfolk, VA on Friday, October 4, 2002 @ 4:45am! I also got closer to my mother than I’ve been in ages, made an interesting, if short term, career change and made a few good friends, one of whom even moved to NY! I’ve got stories that I’ll drop on you from time to time but I’ve got clothes to fold and Isaac to get ready for bed.

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Continue ReadingAnd so it begins…
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