The ongoing tales of my San Francisco adventure

9.25.2005

Folsom Street Fair


After living in this amazing city for eight years, I finally went to the Folsom Street Fair. Apparently my absence from the annual leather event was causing a few to question my homosexuality. Well, not really, but I sure got razzed quite a bit. Suffice it to say, the experience was tremendous and I'm looking forward to next year. Maybe by then I'll be ready to wear a bit more leather than that of my belt.

The massive daylong fair runs down Folsom Street covering many city blocks in San Francisco's SOMA district. It's the crowning finale to the events of Leather Pride Week and the largest event of its kind drawing some 400,000 attendees annually from around the globe.

Wearing some big, black motorcycle sunglasses, tight jeans, a wife-beater and sneakers, I met my friend Dave at 9th and Folsom in the middle of the madness and immediately grabbed a hotdog and a beer for $5. Winding through the crowds in the south of Market heat, it wasn't long before the shirts came off and we bounced along to the thump of a DJ while watching a leather-clad go-go boy dance in a cage suspended over the gyrating masses by a huge crane. At day's end, we stood listening to a red-wigged drag queen in a tight, black dress smothered with the word "fuck" cover Smells Like Teen Spirit. She rocked!

I'm still awash in the sounds, smells and images of the day and I think that it would be near impossible to describe and do justice to the festive spectacle that was the 22nd incarnation of this annual fete. To that end, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I have photos to share. The bad news is that I don't have them now. In all of my excitement I forgot my camera at home, which is why I could only include this one picture of my jeans, leather belt and entrance sticker to the fair. However, my friend Dave wasn't so absent-minded and snapped away all afternoon. As soon as I get my hot little hands on the files, I'll share the fun. In the meantime, I encourage you to check out the galleries at www.folsomstreetfair.com for some visuals from years past.

The mission of the organizing body, Folsom Street Events, is to create volunteer-driven leather events, providing the adult alternative lifestyle community safe venues for self-expression, emphasizing freedom, fun, frolic and fetish, and raising money to benefit San Francisco charities.

Last year over a quarter of a million dollars in proceeds were donated back to twelve beneficiary organizations. The twelve groups that will receive grants this year are:

Raising money for a good cause.
Self-expression.
Freedom, fun, frolic and fetish.
Who can't get into that?

9.17.2005

Made my day






























9.03.2005

For all those impacted by Hurricane Katrina


Wishing you peace and silence,
so that music can begin.




8.25.2005

Cabaret, Truth on Stage and My Little Sister

Although I thoroughly enjoy classical music and fully intend to continue performing in that genre, when I was writing the monologue for my cabaret All I Wanted, I discovered something that my engagements as a classical singer never really allowed for; I was able to put some voice to why specific pieces of music meant something to me. Singers in the world of classical music—where I began my career—typically do not have the opportunity to explain why it is they sing what they sing. In opera, hopefully it's self-evident. In concert repertoire, I suppose that the music is meant to speak for itself. And in liturgical music, well, they already have a script and generally aren't big on ad-libbing. That isn't to say that the volumes of music performed in a cabaret style or setting cannot stand on their own, or that classical music wouldn't be suited to or elevated by a brief prelude with the performer providing the audience some topical or even personal insight into the selection being sung. Rather, it just seems that things have always been done this way and although crossover musicians are evolving the forms, I don't expect classical soloists with the San Francisco Symphony to start engaging the audience with transition patter any time soon. And that's just fine with me.

Cabaret provides the opportunity for an artist to share his or her voice beyond what may be captured in the music itself. It's funny how one’s personal truth on stage can be so overwhelming, particularly considering the very public setting. I was surprised (and a little freaked out) that at a couple of moments in my monologue I was a little choked up over what I was saying to introduce the next piece in my set. [And no, I wasn't tearing up over the beauty of my own performance :) ] I think that my emotions may have been hovering a little closer to the surface than I had expected. I don't think that anyone in the audience really caught on. While honesty on stage can be all-at-once beautiful, jarring and sadly, rare, these people didn't pay hard earned dollars to see my own personal version of an Academy Awards acceptance speech meltdown. So I reigned it in.

One of the things that I spoke about during the performance is a long held and strong belief that above all else, people are most important to me. I suppose that kind of sounds like a 'well-duh' but I don't think that it is. Everyone has a set of priorities, and not everyone has people at the top of that list. I suppose that's okay; it's just not me. I said in the show that of all the things I had accomplished in my life, and of all those things that I still hoped to do, little-to-none has had or will have the impact of the people that I've met, the friendships that I've made and the relationships that I've shared and that's the truth.

In writing my monologue/transition patter, I needed to compose full stories in order to really get to the heart of what I wanted to say before editing the words back to something manageable for the stage. Consequently, there were many things that I would have liked to include, but omitted to suit the format. Speaking about the impact of people in my life, there are many places that I might have and could have gone had I continued in that vein.

One thought that struck me last night for some odd reason was how important my little sister has become in my life as our relationship has grown over the past 5 years.

The youngest of four children by nine years and the daughter of my mother's third husband, in many ways Nikki might seem the furthest away from me of our siblings. I am the oldest and only child from my mother’s first marriage and it would be a gross understatement to say that I had difficulties with Nikki’s father growing up.

Despite the gap in age and the fact that I hadn’t seen Nikki in nearly 8 years when we reconnected 5 years ago, I am closer to her than anyone else in my family and most anyone else at all. She and I describe each other as a male (or female) counterpart of ourselves (though I think that she’s a bit spunkier than I am and I love that about her.) Nikki is someone who people are drawn to; even complete strangers. She—like her big brother—has people at the top of her list. Impossible not to like, everyone to whom I have introduced her has fallen in love with her old soul. She is intelligent, creative, friendly, has an easy smile,





a wonderful laugh





and a great sense of humor.





Scrappy and a spitfire,





she confidently makes her way in Los Angeles and maintains balance with moments of a quiet and independent elegance that strike nearly everyone who knows her.






I love that we talk almost every day and I'm so proud of the life that she is creating for herself in Los Angeles, but sometimes wish she lived a bit closer.


8.19.2005

An Embarrassment of Riches

This could get ugly. Don't say I didn't warn you.

For those of you just tuning in, I've been tagged by Chad Fox of Stop Touching My Food to list 10 songs that I'm currently listening to and enjoying. Hopefully I don't lose *too many* friends from this sooth saying.

The instructions were: list ten songs that you are currently digging ... it doesn't matter what genre they are from, whether they have words, or even if they're no good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artists, and the ten songs in your blog. Then tag five other people to see what they're listening to (which will be delayed until I can find 5 other bloggers to tag).

Since I was mugged earlier this year and lost my new iPod to a filthy thief (*growl*), I took a look at my iTunes playlists to see what I've been dragging over to the sidebar this week and listening to a lot. Those of you with small children might want to cover their eyes.

In no particular order:

Absolutely Zero - Jason Mraz
Just saw him live and had a blast. He's a fun personality on stage and a great musician.




Rodeo by Aaron Copeland - MTT and the San Francisco Symphony
Huge Aaron Copeland fan, both his symphonic stuff and vocal works. Everyone has heard Rodeo. Yes, even you.




Music is Magic - JEM and the Holograms
Okay I admit it. When I was a kid, my sisters watched this cartoon and I loved it too. I don't remember how I stumbled upon JEM and her Holograms again, but I've discovered a strange underground following for this blast from the past. The music: absolutely awful, but oddly appealing in a perverse kind of way.

Untitled 4 - Sigur Rós
Great stuff. Mello. Nice.





Wickeder - Forbidden Broadway
I've never seen Forbidden Broadway's show in NYC, but I've heard that it's hysterical... seems to be a kind of Beach Blanket Babylon except they lampoon Broadway Musicals and their stars. If you love musical theatre (or love to hate it) this is a good time. They go after the stars of Wicked in this one, I've listened to it at least 23 times and it's still funny.


Ne Me Quitte Pas - Ute Lemper
Ute Lemper is one of the most talented singers today. Love her like my luggage.




The Conductor - The Faint
A friend turned me on to The Faint, saw them perform and I like 'em. I do.





Don't Cry Outloud - Melissa Manchester
For all that I know, poor Melissa Manchester has a gazillion and 57 fans and a successful career. To me, she will always be the lady who sang Don't Cry Outloud. My mom had this album when I was a kid and that's my only memory of it. I was reminded of the song recently, and I happy to find it waiting for me on iTunes. Thankfully, she has tamed that mane of hers. Go get 'em Melissa.


Eskimo - Damien Rice
My dear friend Kerry introduced me to Damien Rice and although the stuff can be a bit of a downer, I still enjoy it. He even worked a little classical opera soundy lady in there. Yes, I said, "soundy."




Teenage Dirtbag - Wheatus
Truth. Time for truth. I don't own this Wheatus album. In fact, I couldn't name another song by Wheatus. My track comes from a compilation CD. A Dawson's Creek compilation CD. I know, I know, how could I? What was I thinking? I didn't know you were *that* gay. Although I could try to explain myself with a story of a recording session in LA that I was working on for a TV commercial, and trying to quell my boss's fears and using this CD as a tool to explain our creative direction, I won't. Because the fact remains that after the recording session was completed and the spot in the can, I still kept the CD. There you have it. I'm so ashamed.


Say what you will. I can take it. ; )

8.18.2005

Choking the Chicken

Or at least slapping it good.

Brought to you by PEPSI.
Well, not really... you'll see.

I'm not a soda drinker and although I sometimes felt cheated as a kid, now I'm thankful for it. Other than the very occasional batch brewed soda or root beer float, I just don't care for the stuff. Weird? Some people think so.


When I was in college I remember taking a trip to the local Pizzahut with some friends. It was warm and sticky (and no kids, not in the nice way), typical summer weather for Vermont. As we sat—our thighs adhered to the vinyl bench seats in the abnormally frigid restaurant—I was nearly ejected from the table when someone suggested a pitcher of soda and I said that was fine with me, but that I would just have a glass of milk.

"Milk?" a friend asked, her face puckered with disgust.

"Why?" said another, also not bothering to hide his revulsion at my beverage choice.

"I don't know. We never had it when I was a kid and now, I just don't like it."

"But milk? With pizza?" my friend repeated.

You would think that consuming some milk involved wheeling a Holtstein over to our table and sucking directly from the teat.

"Yes," I said, "if that's alright with everyone."

After murmurs of 'if you want/whatever/so disgusting' the waitress approached our table, pad in hand to take our orders. When she got to me and asked what I would like to drink, I replied, "Just a glass of non-fat milk."

"Milk?" she said with a hint of 'are you sure you want that you disgusting little boy' present in her voice.

My friends all burst out laughing. I turned beat red and uttered a quiet, "Yes, thank you."

"All right," she said which really meant, 'you asked for it ya creepy kid'.

What prompted this trip down memory lane, was a commercial that I just saw on television. Normally, I blast by the things as most stuff that I watch has been Tivo'd, but I had caught up with live TV and didn't have a choice. I still can't decide if it was funny or just upsetting.


The spot opens in the evening with an exterior shot of the Don Juan corner store.
















Cut to the interior where an Asian man (Don Juan? huh?) is standing behind a refrigerated case with two roast chickens and what appears to be a side of broccoli.

First of all, what kind of freak buys his chicken from a corner store? These are establishments known for cigarettes, snack food and sodapop, not fresh poultry. That, and someone should tell Don Juan behind the counter that he might want to consider really committing to this whole butcher thing and expand his offerings beyond the two, sad looking birds and limp vegetables in his deli case.



Our young, urban hipster is interested in purchasing one of the chickens and DJ indicates that he needs to choose.

So, Suave McGreenshirt bends over with his bottle of Pepsi to have a closer look...

And the chickens? They take notice.
















Each clad in a banana leaf mawashi, the battle begins.































*Saaa L A P* Take that bitch!


















Up against the glass, our guy is telling her to get back in there brandishing the prized bottle of PEPSI soda as incentive.
















Is anyone else here a little unnerved by the fact that a roast chicken is hugging a 2-liter bottle of Pepsi?

I know that I am.

















Tom Welling? Of the WB's Smallville? On my TV?













Okay, commercial's over. Back to my guilty pleasure. ; )

7.20.2005

It's Alive!














Well, *live* anyway. The website for my new cabaret show, All I Wanted is up and running (and has been since Monday).

I am so far behind in updating my blog. Pictures and stories and absolutely no time to share. That will all change soon. My show is keeping me really busy (a dialect of crazed that I'm fluent in). The past few weeks, I've also developed conversational skills in hassled, frenzied, restless and nutsy. All these are indicators that a show is nearing its production date.

Speaking of production date—thank you for asking—it's on Saturday, August 6th at 8PM for *one* night only. Don't miss out! All the info and ticketing information is available at the show's site, www.alliwanted.com.

I promise to get back on the blogging... ball? stick? horse? No. Blogging ball. Anyway, I'll get back to it soon and often.

In the meantime, round up a group of friends, buy your tickets and I'll see you on the 6th.