The Jon Blog

No Guest Blogger This Time

Well, I'm off to the Great State of Texas. I'm quite excited. They have Barbecue and Fajitas there in a way we can't come close in NYC.

So I'll talk to you soon. I'll be posting intermittently from Texas, so come check back and see what's doin' in the Lone Star State.

Complaint Department

Well, I actually called my landlord this morning about the heat situation in my building.

If you're read my blog for a while, you know that one of my landlord (or super?)'s favorite things to do is to not turn the heat on while it's rather cold out. Well, recently they've developed a new system which is to have the heat on full blast even though it's rather pleasant outside. This, of course, means I have to open all the windows, turn on all the fans, and at times, the air conditioner is the only solution. How extremely wasteful is that?

So I called and complained. And it's still roasting. Granted, it's only been 3 minutes, but where's my immediate gratification, damnit?

The Night Larry Kramer Kissed Me

Part of me wants to just blog on and on about The Normal Heart, which I saw this evening at the Public. But then I note the fact that just reading Brantley's review, after having seen the show this evening, causes me to burst into tears at the memory of one of the more painful moments of the show, and I don't think I can write about what I saw without falling apart.

It's such an important part of gay history, of gay literature, of gay life. The issues are still, terribly, extraordinarily present in our world.

This is a world that needs more Ned Weeks(es). This is a world that needs more people to see "The Normal Heart." This is a world that needs to be changed, and if seeing this play can inspire one more person to help change the world, then what a wonderful thing.

I've no qualms about admitting that I weep when I am moved by art or theatre or whatnot. And I have to tell you, this play moved me and I wept like I don't recall ever weeping before. I felt such strong emotion racking my body. I can't begin to tell you what an important experience I feel I had this evening.

I will thank this man for advising me to bring a tissue. I really needed it.

And I will also tell you that I just bought a ticket to see it again. And I'm sincerely hoping they find a way to extend it.

Please, go see this show. I never asked you to do that before, and I very well may never ask you again, but I tell you, if you are in New York and you have the resources to see this play, please do. You'll thank me, I promise.

At Least He Got Laid

Saw "Don Giovanni" at the Met Opera last night.

The singing was wonderful. Matthew Polenzani was particularly lovely as Don Ottavio, and Alexandra Deshorties is quite a lovely singer. I single out these two particularly, but everyone in last night's performance did a lovely job. The orchestra was, as usual for the Met, wonderful, although the Overture felt a little sticky and muddy to me at times. Then again, I'm an unusally harsh critic! Especially when it's an opera I know.

Unfortunately, the music was pretty much the best part of the evening.

The production is a new one for this season, and it's horrible. First off, the lights just are not bright enough - except at the finale - you can almost never see anyone's faces. I guess they're thinking that since so much of the story takes place at night, and since a major plot element involves, during that night, two characters trading clothes and pretending to be one another, that it would be good to illuminate the stage "artistically." Hogwash.

The sets were stupid. Giant brick walls that move around to create space, but never provide a sense of place. There's nothing to differentiate the "outside" scenes from the "inside" scenes (although a couple scenes got some unfinished looking white backdrop).

The costumes made no sense. They were from that insipid school of costume design where "let's use lots of different things from different periods because it'll be fun." Which is, unless there's a concerted directorial approach where it really needs to have that. And that's not the approach you take with "Don Giovanni." My biggest gripe? Masetto was wearing brightly striped Converse high-tops.

The direction was lousy, too. The director added a lot of stage business that just had no place in the opera. The worst was an MTV style dance-off on the first duet between Zerlina and Masetto. And having Masetto behave the same way during "Bati Bati O bel Masetto" (mad and trying to stay on the other side of the stage, but surreptiously sliding closer to the person doing the singing) as Zerlina did during the scene where the Don is trying to seduce her... well, it was corny.

And the staging for Don Giovanni's entree into hell was pretty horrid, too. The ghost of the Commenadore is heard to knock on the door - but there is no door... so when he is "let in," he miraculously appears on the inside of a mirror. Stupid. Then during his confrontation with Giovanni, there comes a point when Giovanni touches the front of the mirror -- and it starts to snow. What the fuck? So it snows, they sing, and then the mirror turns out to be on a stage elevator which lowers down into hell -- taking Giovanni and the Commendatore down into hell... Only I didn't think that the Commendatore was supposed to be in hell. But what do I know? I never got hired to design or direct a production for the Metropolitan Opera House.

'Course, I think I'm better qualified than some of the dolts who have...

He Can Be Funny

Michael Riedel has actually written an article which didn't make me, like a certain Broadway director who shall remain nameless even though you probably know I am talking about David Leveaux, deck him.

Message a Marcher

The March for Choice is this weekend.

I can't be there, myself.

My mom and dad will be there, and my sister. And my message will be there.

Your message can be there, too: Message a Marcher.

Thank you.

Excited Post Script

By the way, today my blog will reach its 10,000th hit.

If it happens to be you and you happen to have the ability to save a screenshot or whatever this is called, please let me know.

And Mike thinks it'd be a good idea for me to offer some sort of prize for whoever this 10,000th hit will be... not sure about that, but who knows where emailing me a screen-shot could lead!

Le Sigh

I have just turned on my Air Conditioning for the first time this year (I think... I may have had it on for a tad earlier when the super had our heat on too high, but now I actually need it. Oh, it feels nice.

My favorite temperature is in the upper 60's, so you can imagine how perturbed I was by today's weather. Spring sprang rather quickly, and today just felt like one of those oppresive NYC summer days -- especially later this afternoon when it got really grey and dreary out, and humid.

Anyhow, for some reason I had a memory flashback while walking home from work this evening. I was walking by Bloomingdale's, and the 60th Street exit from the subway. What I recalled was this:

I had been dating this guy (and for some reason the only thing I can't recall is his name), and I thought we were having fun together. We had just gone to see a Broadway show ("Movin' Out," maybe. Not 100% sure on that part either). Since I live in the East 60's and he was in Astoria, we walked together from the theatre to Bloomingdale's, where he was going to get on the train and I would walk the remaining blocks home.

We said our nice little goodnights outside the subway entrance... and I think he said something about having a bit of a cold and not really wanting much in the way of a kiss, but I think I still got a peck on the cheek out of him, along with a "Talk to you in the next day or so."

I never heard from him again, and after two messages and an email (or something about that non-chalant), I gave up. It was too bad. He was a nice guy, cute, professional, nice cock and ass, good kisser. And so, sometimes, when I walk by the Bloomingdale's entrance to the train, I think of him.

And since I helped him paint (stain?) his bookshelves, he might just have to think of me more often.

A Very Interesting Look at Reality TV

Restauranteurs on "The Restaurant". The Times strikes again. On the nose.

I think the article illustrates so much of what is just wrong with reality television. The Restaurant is a farce. I work in a business that's all about sending people out to dinner. I'll just say that we don't call that restaurant very ften.

Anyways...

Isn't This Just Wrong?

from CNN.com:

"The finale to the Donald Trump boardroom game ['The Apprentice'] was seen by an estimated 28 million people this week, according to Nielsen Media Research.

It was the third most-watched show of the season behind the Academy Awards and the post-Super Bowl 'Survivor' episode among the 18-to-49-year-old demographic by which NBC measures its success."

I'm sorry, but every little thing about the entire premise of the show (not to mention the fact that Trump is an ugly little troll) makes me just not want to come anywhere near watching it.

I just don't understand the people who live in this country. First, trying to ban gay marriage... and now this?

Vroom Vroom

So I just got back from Ohio (and Michigan) and the visiting of the 'rents. And the renting of a car. This time around, it was a Toyota Corolla CE from Enterprise. $89.96 for about 60 hours of car.

It started out in quite a lovely fashion, as the cute boy behind the counter actually came outside with me to show me the car. God, he was cute. I just wanted to put him in the backseat and have my way with him. Good thing I didn't have any handcuffs with me, because he wouldn't have had an escape route.

Anyhow, after a quick McDonald's drive-thru breakfast, I was on my way. Except there was a big traffic jam, so I actually made a detour which, while adding 3 or 4 miles, probably saved me 10 minutes. And then I got an open stretch of freeway and learned that there are no comfortable places for me to rest my arms in a Toyota Corolla CE. It is a peppy little car, though.

Perhaps not as fun as Dad's BMW, though.

Ultimately, though, my car question is this: Why do cars have spedometers with(and the capabaility to reach) speeds that are significantly higher than the speed limit? The speed limit out where I was is 70mph. But my Corolla's spedometer goes up to 110, and Dad's BMW up to 160 or 170. When's he gonna drive that fast? When will anyone drive their BMW that fast? Unless they're racing it, in which case they're probably not buying the floor model anyhow. Right?

Anyhow, it made me glad that I don't have to worry about driving on a regular basis. Especially when I saw the prices at the gas stations!

So it was nice to get home, except for the fact that my idiot super has the heat on full blast, even though it's in the low 50's outside. Arrgh!

Again, Thank You TiVo

Has anyone seen Welcome to Woop Woop? It's a fabulous bizarre Aussie film starring Jonathan Schaech, who's a major hottie. My TiVo found it for me because I have it set to search for anything with Barry Humphries in the hopes that it will catch any Dame Edna appearances, should they happen to grace the cable airwaves. I do so love her Dameness.

And speaking of her Dameness, does anyone out there think that Mrs. Slocum, from the BBC's Are You Being Served may have been one of the many sources of inspiration for Dame Edna? She has interestingly colored hair and in more than one episode of AYBS, has appeared with fabulous Ednaish eyewear.

Anyhow, the other thing I really love about TiVo is all the fabulous "cameos" you catch from older sitcoms. For example, I really love the show "Wings," and frequently envision myself in a love triangle including the two Hackett Brothers, played by Tim Daly and Steven Weber. And Thomas Haden Church ain't half bad neither. Anyhow, back to the subject... I was watching "Wings," and was pleasantly suprised by guest appearnces from Megan Mullaly in an episode called "There once was a girl from Nantucket" where she played the town slut, and a guest appearance where Craig Bierko played an actor who, after being hired for all the wrong reasons, becomes the centerpiece of a plot to get back at the person responsible for his hiring. Totally silly, totally "Wings," and quite fun.

I occassionally watch sensible programming, like the National Geographic Channel but they show some weird shit, too...

Anyhow, I have to go to the airport now, as I'm going back to Ohio for a couple days to hang with the 'rents. I'll see you all soon, though, my beloved readers.

Yawn!

Gosh, I must have been tired. I went to bed around 12:30 last night, but I just now woke up, and it's 11:30! Egads! At least I had some really creepy dreams. One was very erotic, and one involved having my car stolen. Note that I do not have a car.

I think the overwhelming amount of sleep has something to do with my allergies. I feel particularly congested and blechy. I need to start taking allergy pills.

It's probably a good time to change the sheets on the bed, too...

It's Just a TV Show But...

I don't usually blog about TV content, just about how much I love TiVo.

But for the first time in a long while, something aside from "reality television" has seriously ticked me off.

I'm talking about what happened on Thursday on ER. Dr. Weaver, played by Laura Innes, is an out lesbian. Her partner and the biological mother of their child was killed off in this week's episode.

Anyhow, they had the dead woman's relatives doing that "you're not related to the baby so you can't have her" thing. And yes, I imagine that it will open a plot door to some wonderful fighting for the right to the child on Dr. Weaver's part, and some wonderful acting on Laura Innes' part, but I still think that it's bullshit that "they" are doing this.

As gay men and women, we struggle daily for our rights, and perhaps it's nice that ER wants to show that struggle on some level. But on another, more immediate level, there are a lot of people who have real fucking short attention spans who learn most of what they know from TV. And especially if someone just saw this week's episode, wouldn't they be able to conclude that ER is, essentially, saying that a non-biological parent of a baby being raised by two committed gay parents is, in the event that the biological parent dies, has no legal, or even personal right to said child?

This, my friends, is why we need gay marriage. But at the same time, we need networks like NBC, which we already know to be gay-friendly on some level (remember, these are the folks who bring us "Will & Grace" and "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy"), to show more support.

I sincerely hope that I'm jumping the gun and that the longterm storyline will show a happy ending in this matter for Dr. Weaver - that somehow her widow's family will be able to come to grips with the fact that she is the mother of this baby in every possible way, except for biology. But in the meantime, as you can tell, I'm rather outraged.

And one more minor comment about NBC -- doesn't "Will & Grace" kind of suck without Debra Messing?

Happy Easter

A Whole Year

Well, folks, today we're celebrating one whole year here at The Jon Blog. I've been blogging for longer than that, but it was one year ago today that the first one of these went out into cyberspace.

I've had a pretty nice year between then and know. I learned how to knit. I visited England, Thailand, Tanzania, Holland, Ohio, California, Washington DC and state, and probably some other places. I saw lots of operas and musicals and plays. I met a some interesting people. I had sex a couple times. Granted, I would have wished that had happened a few more times. I turned 32 and renewed my passport. I even got a (small) raise for my salaray at work. Yup, a whomping $0.54/hr.

And I blogged about it. And people actually wanted to read about me. 9,687 times, as of our most recent count.

It's all rather thrilling. And since I just paid to renew my webhosting and domain name, I'm going to assume it's going to continue...

More Fucked Up News

1: Family with Fifteen Kids.

2: More on Antoine Yates. Remember him? The guy with the tiger in his Harlem apartment?

3: Sliding price scale for Lithuanian Prostitutes.

That's enough for one day...

Let Me Entertain Me

Well, the theatrical quotient over here at The Jon Blog is as high as ever. Last night was Strauss' "Salome" at the Met Opera. Sadly, it was the only performance at which Karita Mattila, who got rave reviews for her performance, did not appear. Still, Sue Patchell is a lovely singer and she did quite a nice job.

Tonight, I will Shakalala again at Bombay Dreams, although this time is the new Broadway version which has been, we are told, revamped by such talented folk as Thomas Meehan and David Yazbeck to make it more palatable for American audiences. (Translation: to dumb it down.)

Tomorrow night is a fancy dining experience (note that the restaurant I will go to was referred to in the sushi article in the previous post).

Saturday, I'm going to see First Lady Suite with Mike. I was inspired to buy tickets for this after reading Brantley's glowing review. Very odd to me that Brantley would actually write a glowing review of La Chiusa's work, although we all know that Brantley's true nemesis is Jason Robert Brown. Why doesn't Ben Brantley ever have a kind word to say about JRB?

Anyhow, that's what is currently on the plate. Well, that and being annoyed by Condi Rice and all the partisan BS surrounding her testimony to the 9-11 commission. Ugh. Let's not go there, ok?

Mmm, Frozen Fish!

This is for all the sushi lovers out there. And I am included in those ranks.

All Quiet on the Jonblog Front

No, I'm not dead. I just haven't been terribly inspired to blog lately. This is, perhaps, because absolutely nothing is going on in my life outside of work and knitting. And since I blog about my knitting here, my urge to blog has been sated. Yes, there is a hugely thriving world of knit-bloggers out there. And I am among their ranks now, for the past month.

But I didn't want to leave you all lonely and without the wise words of the Jon Blog for more than absolutely necessary, so I figured I'd type something here for you, gentle reader.

And I don't want to talk about Iraq or about George Bush or John Kerry, so I figured I'd blog about my boyfriend. He's Miranda's boyfriend, too. And I hear that Jeff has been dabbling with him a little bit, too, and he pissed Mike off the other day, too. Gosh, we all have the same boyfriend? Who could it be?

That's right, I'm talking about TiVo.

Now there are things I love about him, but there are a few things I hate about him, too. There are lots of things that I love about TiVo, such as fast forwarding over the ads, rewinding back when it's that Gap ad with the really hot guy, or the really cute guys in the stupid Old Navy commercial with Morgan Fairchild, and stuff like that. And sometimes TiVo even makes a smart choice on my list of "Suggested Shows."

But right now, I feel more compelled to write about something I hate about him. Granted, it's not his fault that there are two shows I love which are now, regretably, airing at the same time. Yes, I'm talking about "Scrubs" and "It's All Relative." One features a fabulous gay couple and the disarmingly cute Christopher Seiber, and one doesn't really feature any openly gay characters but does occasionally have cute actors like Zach Braff take their shirts off. And I'm getting this irrational crush on ZB, even though I have a very firm personal rule against dating actors.

Why the rule? Well, there are a few distinct reasons behind it.

#1: I have known actors. I have dated actors. What is a gay male actor's favorite thing? I will tell you: it is the sound of his own voice. He will talk and talk and talk and talk. I know very few actors with whom I can get a word in edgewise.

#2: If he's a good actor, then how can you ever be sure that he's telling you what he's really feeling? Granted, part of this has to do with my own security, but you never really get to see the Playbill for real life, so I always wonder if the credit says, "Appearing as himself, Your Boyfriend." Or does it say, "At this evening's performance of your life, the role of your boyfriend will be played by This Guy..." Know what I mean?

#3: If he's not a good actor, well, then, let's just not go there.

Oh, if only TiVo could get two shows at once. Or if the network execs would flip one of these shows to another time which is still open in my primetime viewing schedule. Ah, to dream...

You Know You Love the Strange News

Check this one out...

Anyhow, I haven't really had tons to blog about recently, but life is going well. I'm making progress on the diet, so I'm pleased by that.

Here's a silly story for you. I had some spare time yesterday and happened to be walking past a movie theatre, so I figured I'd go check out a film. I asked the ticket-guy which of the two movies that were starting right then I should see. "Eternal Sunshine" or "Jersey Girl," I asked? (What, I like Kevin Smith movies!). Anyhow, I was very impressed with "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," which is what the movie theatre guy told me to see. I'm glad I did. A very intriguing meditation on memory, love, and desire. Probably would be an interesting one to see again. And not just for the joy of seeing Mark Ruffalo in his underpants...