Dating as a gay man in New York City is difficult, but it sure beats dating as a gay man in Charlottesville, Virginia. Believe me, I tried it. Usually this consisted of sitting at Escafe and picking at a salad while scanning the crowd or trying to flirt between equipment at ACAC, the most well lit and bland gym on the planet. Slim pickings, so I blew that joint.
Apparently the straight folk aren’t faring any better. Enter Marya Choby. “Do you feel isolated and sometimes wonder if there are any available singles in Charlottesville?” she asks. Through the practice of “Conscious Dating,” which sounds about as appealing a term as conscious sedation, desperate straights can learn how to do boring, sedate things like “attract an abundance of dates” and “heighten your self worth.” But wait! There’s more! “When you are afraid there’s no one to date, you create instant relationships…” she explains on a Web site that amounts to the digital manifestation of a divorcee mother of two, hair unkempt, ashes floating down the front of an open avocado house coat.
Please for the love of God no more Britney Spears coverage! Such a sad story and I wish all the best for her, but enough already. Frankly, I think that she’ll have to move to Europe to ever really get well. The same is probably true for me at this point, too. Anyway, we’re preying on someone with a disability and illness. Kinda gross. Besides, in this day and age there are more pressing issues facing the nation. Such as the fact that these cannot possibly be Michael Jackson’s kids.
I noticed James Gandolfini rightly putting the smackdown on an “overzealous fan” at JFK yesterday at the gym, while struggling on the StairMaster. Don’t watch TV at home, though tomorrow is the Lost Season 4 premiere so you never know. Anyway, today over at Dlisted I noticed the same guy harassing Rumer Willis as she arrived at JFK. So the “overzealous fan” is mostly a fan of himself. Which leaves me to conclude that one can become famous or more famous than ever before by going without underwear, being bipolar or battling an addiction in public, singing poorly, and, now, following people at the airport.
This past weekend Serb phenom Novak Djokovic broke through and won his first major tournament at the Australian Open. The first player representing Serbia, I think, to win a Grand Slam singles title. Gay tennis fans everywhere breathed a collective sigh. The guy can’t keep his shirt on and I, for one, am not about to complain. Probably straight, I know, but I but check out the photo below… because that’s one gay shirt and reason enough to go without. Hope is alive!
I spent the MLK holiday weekend checking out Kara Walker’s exhibit at the Whitney Museum, which was a worthwhile and powerful way to honor the holiday. This racially charged and raw exhibit, primarily of silhouettes, closes February 3rd so I highly recommend checking it out before it’s too late. The emotions it stirred in me were varied and ranged from grief to shame to humor.
Yes! My Trog DVD came in the mail the other day. Joan Crawford’s last movie features the star, arguably tipsy but clearly well past her prime, teetering precariously on high heels in a lab coat as earnest Dr. Brockton. She discovers the sasquatchy Trog in a cave and the furry fellow finds a place in the old broad’s heart. “You see, Captain, Trog can be reasoned with! I implore you to let me go back with my hypogun!” she, uh, implores, clearly oblivious to the fact that she’s acting in a B movie. So it’s either Trog or that autographed copy of RuPaul’s Starbooty that Dwayne gave me for Christmas.
So it seems that the CNN Web site has nearly completed its slow morph into an online version of the rag OK! magazine, without the irony. Or maybe it’s more In Touch. Hard to say. This has been happening for some time now but has recently reached a fever pitch. Clues have included the Heath Ledger tragedy occupying the main news spot on the site for, what, a day and also the unfortunate use of the caption “Sasquatchy image spotted in Mars picture.” For shame, people!
