Guy LeCharles Gonzalez (aka glecharles) (aka loudpoet)

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

Spring Cleaning

I spent the morning updating the backends of this site and Spindle’s — WordPress 2.3.3 and Joomla 1.0.15, respectively — as well as a number of the plug-ins and modules that had new updates released recently, and finally found a new WP template I liked better than my previous one which had a couple of cosmetic bugs I never could figure out how to fix.

The picture up top is temporary, at least in size, because I ran out of time, but any feedback on the readability and functionality of everything else would be most appreciated.

PS: Yes, thanks to a hectic couple of weeks, I’m behind on the latest Spindle update which was scheduled for 3/11 but am hoping to have it ready to go on Tuesday morning!

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

Lucky to be Black

I really am trying to lower my political caloric intake right now — and, for the most part, have, thanks to a hectic few days of dealing with the adventures of buying a house — but the events of the past week have simply been unavoidable and difficult to let go unremarked upon. The posts I haven’t written this week would have reflected negatively on my chosen candidate, blistered your eyeballs and, in a few cases, possibly even ended casual friendships with a few Clinton supporters who are otherwise wonderful, rational people.

In a situation like this, you hope someone else will put what you’re thinking into more palatable words, and earlier this week, Keith Olbermann did exactly that.  Today, it’s RJ Esko over at the Huffington Post, responding to Clinton supporters who send him hate mail “every time I criticize the Clinton campaign strategy.”

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

The Ideal Woman

Men’s Health reports on an “ideal woman” survey by some British dating website:

There’s no accounting for taste. Some guys go for Salma Hayek, others for Jessica Simpson.

A British dating website polled 66,000 men about their female ideal and came up with someone who sounds closer to Jessica than Salma: blue eyes, long blonde hair, 5-8, 130 pounds, extremely fit, etc.

(Yes, we know Jessica has brown eyes. We were speaking generally.)

The Brits also said they like her to wear glasses sometimes, have a wacky, optimistic personality, not smoke, drink occasionally, and make less money than him.

Never mind that anyone who thinks Jessica Simpson is more attractive than Salma Hayek is crazy in my book, and we’ll ignore the apparent libidinous librarian fetish (mainly because I kind of understand that one!), it sounds like British men are a bit insecure on the financial front, what with preferring their ideal woman make less money than they do. That makes no sense to me.

Interestingly, British women are apparently superficial golddiggers, so that might explain things a little bit:

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

Toys R Us Kid no more

One of the primary things that separates the men from the boys is home ownership. More than marriage or fatherhood, buying a home is arguably the biggest commitment the average person can make, because you can always get divorced and disown your kid(s), but hell hath no fury like a mortgage payment scorned!

I’ve never bought into the real estate as investment theory because first and foremost, a house should be a home, so I would never take out anything other than a traditional mortgage. (A VA loan, actually, officially the best thing to come out of my service in the Army.)  Way too many people are paying a hard price for overreaching a few years ago when their sucker adjustable rates adjusted sharply upwards and the promise of easy re-financing turned out to not be as easy as they were told it would be and their homes were suddenly worth less than they paid for them. When you buy a house to live in it, and buy one that’s within your means, barring some unexpected life-changing event, you’re going to be all right.

With our lease up at the end of June and the market in New Jersey having tanked compared to three years ago when we were looking last time, we decided to give it another shot and spent the last two weekends checking out more than 20 houses, an enlightening variety that ranged from good solid maybes to “good luck that with that!” We put a lowball bid on one last week but didn’t like the counter-offer and, after a second viewing, had some serious misgivings about its short-term prospects and didn’t put forth a second bid.

Then, completely unexpectedly, our realtor pulled a Ty Pennington and showed us a house that wasn’t on our list and was just far enough out of our price range to make us sad.

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Continue ReadingToys R Us Kid no more
An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Go see Liberty City

Liberty CityI went to see Liberty City last night, April Yvette Thompson’s multi-layered, one-person account of her upbringing in the infamous Miami neighborhood during the chaotic 70s, told against a backdrop of the rise and fall of the Black Power movement, the Crack epidemic and the Liberty City Riots that led to Miami being declared a disaster area, literally and figuratively. Co-written and directed by an old friend of mine, Jessica Blank (The Exonerated; Almost Home), I went mainly to support her work but came away amazed by Thompson’s acting prowess.

I’ve seen a handful of one-person shows over the years — real ones by real actors, not the self-indulgent features-on-steroids many poets have put together* — and am always impressed by an actor’s ability to believably portray multiple characters with a minimum of props and costume changes, but in Liberty City, Thompson pulls off six major characters (and a few minor ones) without making a single addition to or subtraction from her attire to delineate them, relying soley on vocal inflections, body language and an amazingly expressive face that ages, de-ages and changes genders without ever missing a beat. Her story is a riveting one that weaves her family history with that of Libery City‘s into a 90-minute, intermission-less collection of increasingly emotional (though impressively restrained) anecdotes that lead to a conclusion that is simultaneously heart-breaking and hopeful, and more than a little bit timely.

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

Spitzer steps on his own d…

I liked Eliot Spitzer, in theory, when he came roaring into Albany, taking over as our Governor from the lame George Pataki and, determined to break the stalemate between state Democrats and Republicans, promised to steamroll anyone who got in his way as he drove the unethical from the temple in one glorious sweep of righteous fury! His crash-and-burn first year was arguably predictable, but his apparent resignation today over a prostitution scandal — you have to figure there’s more to it because politicians have simply apologized for less and moved on with their careers — definitely came out of left field.

Live by the sword, die by the sword, I guess.

Interestingly, Spitzer’s seemingly aborted political career should serve as an object lesson for those who cast themselves as “fighters” in the political arena in such bi-partisan times. If you step into the ring with your dukes up, you’re guaranteed to get a fight and not much more than that. Spitzer fought hard as Governor, losing more than he won, not the least of which was the immense political capital he came into office with, some of which might have saved him today.

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