Priscilla and Stephen

You want to hear a sad little fact about yours truly? This trip to New York was my first time ever I have seen a big Broadway Hit on Broadway. Yes – at the age of 47, after being on the stage since I was 13, and only living a mere five hour drive from the Big Apple for the first 25 years of my life, I was FINALLY SEEING A BROADWAY SHOW ON BROADWAY.
 
The Big Broadway show in Question was Priscilla Queen of the Desert.  Yes – the latest rage is to take a screenplay and convert it to a Musical. With the resounding success of “ The Producer’s” and the lack of original ideas out there –this seems to be new direction for the American Musical. Now I happen to like Priscilla the movie so I was thinking I would enjoy the musical-and enjoy it I did. Our seats were a tad on the nosebleed side, but they were an excellent view of the entire stage.  I had been told that the miraculously fast quick changes from straight men to in drag were achieved through the use of a cleverly devised skin-like masks with rouge and false eyelashes attached, that could be thrown on and just as easily peeled off. In the balcony there was no way Orlando and I could see that to tell you it is true, but the quick changes were extraordinary on a couple of occasions.  If you are a hardcore fan of the movie you have to realize that there is already HUGE  hit on Broadway that is “Abbalicious” so the music for  PQOTD had to be reworked into…take a breath………….Madonna.  Well the gal IS a Gay Icon and she has been around for a bit- so you can understand WHY they chose her-but still one does miss the ABBA. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I could ever get enough ABBA.  My fondest memory was roller skating to dancing queen with my Church youth group to Dancing Queen.  Actually that was a fairly terrifying moment being a roller skates and I was grateful that Pammy Hastings broke her wrist so we had to stop – but hey –I liked the music!
And I certainly have no problem with “Madge” (as the Brits call her).  As a baby Gay,  I was weaned on Madonna. There were just elements that were missed from the movie that we would’ve like to have seen in the musical. I will give one moment away and tell you that you DON’T ever see or hear about a small vial of Madonna’s excrement. Yet other moments impressed- like with the Opera blaring and the wild flowing costume on top of the bus. It was quite cleverly executed. Kudos! Today on Sirius Broadway I had heard that Priscilla had played "canned" string instruments instead of live. Their reasoning was that it was a show about lip synching after all so... Very sad to hear that.

                                                                     

 Orlando and I got carried away in the momentous feeling of me seeing my FIRST BROADWAY SHOW (on Broadway), and spent an ungodly amount of money on booze in these little sippy cups. Yes…Sippy cups for a sippy cub.  At intermission I was trying to make up for falling asleep on Saturday Night and was reaching out to all my NYC Bears for where the Sunday night Hot Spots was for our tribe via Facebook on my Droid Incredible. I had finally contacted Stephen.  Stephen and  I made friends  years ago, originally on a website called Bear411 and then later we chatted more on Facebook. Maybe “made friends with” is a making light of how I actually feel about Stephen.  I fell passionately in love with him to be more truthful.  Point of fact when I had begun dating Orlando, I had mentioned that if we ever moved to New York he would have to consider making our relationship polyamorous  because I loved Stephen so much and fully planned on making him one of my Brother Husbands.  As far as I can see –Bigamy is the ONLY thing the Mormons got right.  Orlando’s reaction to this was to nod and continue eating his French Toast and watching Sanctuary.

One only need to look at my dating history to see my fascination with Stephen. He is the prototype of what I find particularly aesthetically pleasing to my eye.  He is fairly muscular, fairly broadshouldered and big armed African American Man who has a lovely shiny bald head and beautiful shiny brown eyes with long lashes and his derriere is something that inspires sonnets deep within my soul.  I think A LOT about that derriere of his by the way.  Ok Ok – so I don’t KNOW him as a “person” that deeply. I mean I know he loves music very much and fashion and bears. He’s just enough masculine to turn me on and just enough Diva not to turn me off.  I learned rather recently that he is ALSO in a relationship. He’s got me beat by a mind blowing 11 years longer than mine.  I don’t ask him much about his fella and he doesn’t chat that much with me about Orlando. Surprised? I bet you’re not.  I suspect that his partner takes my fascination with him about as seriously as Orlando takes it. Perhaps we aren’t real?  Maybe Stephen and I are just ” Internet Lovers” But ..what happens when you are partnered and you are GAY (very different from how the Hets handle it )  and you meet your long lusted after  virtual  Lover in the non-virtual world?  There is one other thing I feel I should divulge in this running fountain of TMI and that’s -– my love for Stephen is er...well  unrequited. While he doesn’t exactly spurn my attentions he didn’t exactly send me a plane ticket either in all these years of flirting. I had briefly considered buying one at one point to meet him before I met Lando, but I thought that flying to New York for a hook up was even too crazy for me.  NOW we had found each other and after the Curtain lowered on Priscilla he texted that  “ The Eagle” was  THE Sunday Night hang out for Bears and that he would be there and was looking forward to meeting me. Yikes!


                                             
The Eagle in New York is nothing like the now defunct  Eagle in San Francisco.  It is darker and hotter (men and temperature)  and more sex-filled. The SF  Eagle seemed like a giant sunny  Patio bar for Leather Queens but this place had three levels and each one had a different energy all geared for New York Gay Males to get their groove on.  I am not sure if it was because I hadn’t been out hunting  for a while or that the sexual energy of Gay New Yorkers is more intense then their West Coast counterparts but  I remarked to Orlando that the sexual tension in the air was palpable. His response was to take off his shirt. And you thought I was the attention-whore in the relationship? Think again. Orlando had picked up on my anxiety about meeting my “friend”. The “friend card” is how I chose to play it but after all these years  the Lando bear knew me and… well…. our relationship being what it was –jealousy wasn’t anything anyone needed to worry about tonight.  After a bit of exploration and texting to Stephen I had learned there was a “deck” to the Eagle where there was an outdoor bar. We went up to the roof deck and I peered around for Stephen and BAM- there he was. He shot me a benign smile and it was like I was indeed seeing an old friend. There were no thunderbolts or vibrations thrumming through my heart. It was Stephen. 

Stephen and P.A. together at last?

                                                               

He was with Al. This took me a while to figure out because AL was was one of my Facebook bears too. He was one of those heavy set men that photographed differently everytime and in real life looked a bit differently then he did on the internet. Not bad –just not as recognizable to me.  I often hit “like” when Al found stuff to post on his Wall or showed a cool new shirt he bought. Al was a handsy gregarious Bear who appreciated a handsome man and definitely didn’t waste time saying so.

P.A. and Al

                                                                        

Stephen couldn’t stay long, because he had to head to work early the next day, and seemed involved with the men he was keeping company with. Was that the partner of 14 years?  No –didn’t  think so. Everything was a blur. I wanted to hang with him but then an SF Bear recognized Lando and I and wondered what the hell we were doing in New York. We got engrossed in a conversation with him. Then I  got excited because we realized I had nearly spilt my drink on Josh from Project Runway.  Orlando looked over and said, “ How do we know that guy?” and I said, “ because you watched Project Runway with me the other night.” I didn’t say “Hey Josh!” ---and high five him. I did apologize for nearly spilling a drink on him and he was very sweet about it.  Al got a serious case of Roman Hands and Russian Fingers and was all over Orlando and myself.  I thought about saying something about” just because I pose for all those pictures doesn’t mean you can touch the merchandise”  but  he settled down after a while. Soon it became time for Stephen to leave. I thought maybe we could meet tomorrow when he got out of work? I got a maybe. I was meeting my friend (–real friend –as opposed to internet friend)  at Happy Hour at The Gym Bar the following day.  We hugged tightly. He smelled good. It was brief but that’s all. My heart didn’t thump wildly out of control at his touch like I thought it might. We said goodbye. Then I  looked over at the furry Landobear chatting with AL as he looked back over at me and I went over and slipped in Lando’s arms.  I guess I knew where I belonged. Maybe  Stephen sensed it too? Who knows? . We chatted about it briefly on Facebook when I returned to the East Bay and I felt apologetic.  I still think he is amazingly lovely and I also think he is a good guy. He cracked a joke about how guys meet him and then the “spell is broken”.  Even though he didn’t mean it – I played along.  I didn’t think that applied in our case. I just think I am under a stronger spell and well…at least we’ll always have Facebook.
                             
 

Lando's Family Part Deux

The next day I awoke feeling ashamed. I was in one of the most exciting cities anywhere and I had gone to bed at 8:30PM the night before and slept for 10 hours. Orlando grumbled a bit about it which didn’t alleviate my feelings of guilt and shame. However, deep down I was grateful for two things; First- Our bed was very comfortable and Second I was feeling much much better after 10 hours of sleep. There was no longer a hazy corona around lit lightbulbs and other bright areas, and my feet and legs didn’t ache so damned much.

  Our bedroom was small. Outside our room was an ancient kittycat sitting placidly in the hall with interesting markings that gave him the name, “Charlie Chaplin”.  He stared up at us to give us an indifferent good morning gaze. Orlando reached down to scratch his head and chin and he began to purr appreciatively.  He did look like he had a mustache  of sorts and it did have a Chaplinesque look to it. There were three floors to the hotel. The stairway and upper hallway we decorated with Blackglama Ads featuring famous Divas. This must be one of those things that identifies it as a Gay Hotel. I could name all but one. Unfortunately I never learned who she was because the gent manning the front desk didn’t know either. I had never thought to snap a pic of it on my phone to research it. I had fun testing Orlando because his knowledge of actors and actresses from  before 1982 is pretty poor. How he ever got his Gay Card I’ll never know. There were two pictures -one with Liza and another with Judy with the familiar Blackglama motto. “ What Becomes a Legend Most?”, side by side so I asked him, “What do these two women have in common?”  You’ll be pleased to know that he eventually figured it out -and with very few hints I might add.

  On our way over to Elba’s apartment in Spanish Harlem, we did a tourist route. It involved walking through Times Square. I posed ridiculously with my hands up in the air, while Lando snapped a pic and someone walking by was explaining to his two companions that “New York does this to people”. I wondered if he had ever succumbed to a Mary-Tyler-Moore-moment before. We went up 8th avenue because they were having a huge Street Fair. We both bought hats and I found some cute refrigerator magnets shaped like unusual pieces of produce. That wound up being the extent of our tourist shopping in The Big Apple.                        

  As we approached Central Park South I was sooo excited to see the Horse-drawn carriages all lined up on Park Ave. They were so elegant and reminded me of every fairy tale Lifetime movie I had ever seen. The horses were elegant -even when they took a dump or piss! There was like this ..net thing just under their family jewels and it caught it all...except the odor. There was nothing they could do about that!  Regardless - I was terribly impressed with how these non-touching- diapers worked. Orlando said he had always wanted to ride one, ever since he had seen them as a little boy. I looked at him wide-eyed and he got it immediately that I had the same longing. “ Well Let’s go check it out, shall we?” Well I can tell you - it aint cheap. You can expect to pay around $100 for 40 minutes of your “fairy tale romantic horse-drawn-carriage ride”. A very carny-like Australian tried to talk us into it right away. I reminded Orlando of the time and we were due at Elba’s in about 35 minutes. We said no - and we were going to make the dream come true tomorrow. Orlando muttered, “ It’s only money.” about 5 times and then relaxed into the idea.

                                                                                        
Dinner at Elba’s was almost identical to every family dinner I had growing up. Mariah was watching some Children’s program but she got distracted enough to grab the Ipad and have her Tio Lando and Titi P.A. read to her about cars. “ Omg!” I squeaked in distress, “ She likes Cars!!!” She was barely 2 feet tall - and she was issuing orders that Lando sit to her immediate left and I sit to her right. Along with her father’s help, she had managed to learn my name pretty quickly. I sat her on my knee and looked at her earnestly. “ Now you realize Mariah, that cars aren’t exactly my thing but your Tio Landito over there could probably chat with you about them. I’ll teach you a few beauty tips and maybe how to handle a man.” Luckily her parents didn’t hear a word of that ,but the ever watchful Elba saw us bonding out the corner of her eye. “ You must like children! “  Orlando and I spoke simultaneously and said offhandedly, “ Not really.” It was if someone had cracked a very inappropriate joke and Jess and Martin looked nervously over at their daughter clambering around my lap. I spoke quickly.“ Mariah is clearly special and not like other children and deserves my full attention.” I didn’t intend to sound like one of the elders from Rosemary’s Baby so I confessed that at one point in my life I had been one of the most successful babysitters at Northfield Jr-Sr High. I owe it to all those theater warm up games I learned and how they were excellent for tiring children out. I have to say Mariah is special and for some reason really plucked at my heart strings. I blurted it out before I had given it much thought. “ In fact Jess - if you and Martin ever want to send her to California for a week when she is a little older-” Orlando cut me a look that kind of shut me up. Martin laughed and said, “ Be careful what you wish for PA.”

The Pork was delicious and Elba shared with me the method to get the skin the same crispy texture that Orlando loves so much. Apparently it involved a cup of water but I imagine it also had to do with the cut of meat too. When we ate pork I typically bought very lean cuts which didn’t tend to get that nice crispy skin that he craved so much. She also made the pre-requisite rice and beans which normally I am not a fan of. I found that -however she had seasoned the beans it was very nummy. I decided not to tell Orlando because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Many times I skip eating his recipe because he puts lots of bacon fat in them and it gives me the indigestion from hell. I found Elba’s to be lighter -almost like a well cooked lentil in a mild Indian Dal. I LOVE lentils. I liked Elba’s so much, I had a second portion! Lando DIDN’T miss that . “ Hey!! What’s up with that??? I thought you hated Beans!” I just tried to make my eyes as big and as blue as I possibly could and shrugged.” I dunno...I didn’t want it offend your Aunt.” The blue eyes worked. They always do by the way. “ You like Elba’s cooking don’t you honey?” I nodded enthusiastically and stuffed another mouthful of beans and rice in.

  More people arrived. Elba’s son and his family but they didn’t intend to stay to eat. They were just going to pop in and head over to the gym. Orlando and Jess properly guilted them because it had been years since they had seen this particular cousin. Elba scooted over on the couch next to me. I told her the meal was great. She spoke again about Orlando’s Mom, Elsie and she said she had spoken to her on the phone and Elsie had said I was so nice and good to her son. There was almost some relief to her voice. I suspect it had to do with the fact that I was far more age appropriate than Orlando’s last partner but hey that’s just me speculating. I am still the old man in the relationship by a few years. She patted me affectionately on the leg. “ Your family now baby! You got that!?” It almost had an Italian Mobster feel to it but I liked that thought. You give me any shit? My Titi Elba will take your ass OUT! You got me Baby? Hugs and promises were made. I wanted to come back next year.

  Now the goal was to head back to the hotel - freshen up and head out for a night to the THEATEH!! Priscilla Queen of the Desert was the Broadway Show of choice. Times Square seemed more like Vegas to me at night. Sardi’s which used to be a fabulous hang out of broadway stars back in the day, now seemed like a vaguely tired tourist stop. The onions in my Gibson were unforgivably soft. There was a large tub of cheddar spread and Ritz crackers that apparently is communally shared during Happy Hour. Yuk! We did strike up a conversation with some legitimate New York Theater goers who were enraptured about this show in which  performers did these uncanny interpretations of Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis and I forget who else. They were blown away and assured us that we would love it if we got the chance. I somehow doubted that. Orlando asked them what they thought of “The Book of Mormon” and they gave us this world weary “ Yes - ok entertaining but haven’t we all HEARD this story before??”. I should mention they were clearly heterosexual and somehow that comment raised my hackles a bit, but I felt I might travel into a territory where I had no idea what I was talking about. So I chose not to. I later regretted it when we told one of the women we had tickets to see Priscilla. She all but patted us on the head and encouraged us like grade school children to enjoy our day at Disney. Again the thing with the hackles...

Lando's Family

I was a tad mesmerized at this whole hybrid business of Fried food and Lingerie. It occurred to me that at this point I could be easily mesmerized by ANYTHING because we were stretching into our 30th hour without sleep. If there is one thing I really need to fully function –it’s my sleep. I also hadn’t sat down in several hours and the shoes began to pinch.  I fiddled with my camera trying to adjust to impending twilight. Jessica was standing next to me and we were amiably chatting. She looked almost exactly like her brother to me. She had the same smile and soft warm brown eyes. I looked down at Orlando tickling Mariah’s belly while she shrieked in glee at her Tio. I glanced down at Jessica’s belly. She was a few months pregnant. She shrugged and explained to me that it rained when she was on vacation with her husband and she gestured at her belly. “ This is the result.”  I told her that I thought her Mother is probably delighted. She agreed she was.  I liked their mother.  Their mother’s name is Elsie and Elsie and I had met  in Oroville California a little over a year ago. Elsie –who had reportedly had ancient issues with her  only son coming out of the closet-surprised everyone by hugging me goodbye and telling me to take care of her son. This story had gotten around because Jessica was staring at me wide-eyed. “ My mother is not a “hugger”. She rarely did that to us growing up. She told me that she was happy that Lando had found you. “  I felt one more latch slide into place in regards to my relationship with Orlando. I didn’t need the blazer and the dress shoes. I had Elsie on my side.                                           

Finally Elba finished up and explained that we didn’t need to go to a restaurant. A family friend was having a big Barbecue and we were all welcome. Boy – these Puerto Ricans do things differently! It would be rare that anyone in my family would be thrilled that a family member showed up to one of their parties with 5 OTHER MOUTHS TO FEED. I asked if I should bring some wine and Elba looked at me as if I had just spoken Martian. No No – it would be fine. She went through the directions to get to this park with Jessica and Martin.  We accompanied Elba. Elba is Orlando’s Aunt on his father’s side. Orlando’s father died of a Heart attack at a very young 41. Elba was so grief stricken she nearly threw herself on to Orlando Sr’s coffin as it was lowered into the grave.  Elba chatted comfortably about the kid who was the guest of honor at this Barbecue. “ He’s a good kid.” Orlando asked what they were celebrating.  Elba said that it had been a full year since he was out, so the family was celebrating. My mind went, “Wow – this is some progressive party. The kid comes out of the closet and they celebrate the anniversary date!!” Orlando actually processed it correctly. “ Out…of Jail?” Yes Elba tells us. “He shouldn’t have done what he did but hey, they shouldn’t have messed with his family in the first place. He got out early of course for good behavior and he’s been doin real good.”  My eyes grew wide. I put my hand on Elba’s shoulder to slow her pony-like trot. “ Hang on Elba, “ I had trouble catching my breath. “ So we are going to a picnic, in the park, here in Spanish Harlem to celebrate this guy’s year anniversary of being out of prison?”  She nodded and said, “yup! And you get to meet my daughter Liz too! ”  I mumbled to Orlando that I didn’t think taking pictures at this “event” would be welcome and perhaps my camera should stay in my back pack.
When we arrived to the park my first thought was , “ Oh this is where all my exboyfriends ended up.”
The thug-quotient was high but there were a lot of old men and kids and women. The food had the feel of a church supper.  I suddenly felt my knees wobble with fatigue. I panicked trying to find a place to sit with my plate and Orlando found us all a bench where we gathered away from the crowd. The food was interesting and somewhat tasty. Not many green things but there was Yucca steamed with Onions and there was a little pork left –enough for Orlando and I to have a few bites. He swooned with each bite. That all went to hell when he sampled the Macaroni and cheese which was terrible. Whatever ingredient the cook had used to bind the cheese to the milk and butter didn’t work and it was this gloppy flavorless mess. I had to agree with Lando about the pork though. Those few bites were absolutely packed with rich pork flavor.  He refused to take my last bite. That’s love eh?
  

Elba and Liz

Liz is a Puerto Rican bombshell and a chip off the ole Elba block. “Cuz!!!”  Orlando thundered at his cousin. She was in oblivion kissing and greeting and oohing and awing over the spell casting Mariah.
“ Cuz!!!” He bellowed somewhat playfully, “Where the hell were you? What took you so long??” She mouthed something but we didn’t catch it. After saying, “What?” a few times she hissed at him through her teeth, “ Because I was having Seeeexxxxxxkssskss!!!”  If there is ever an explanation that Orlando will thoroughly understand – it’s that one.  Liz had a huge persona and it was “the Liz show”.  I used to have a friend that brayed at me “A.A.P.A.!!!”  (All About P.A.) when I got a little too self involved. Something told me that Liz had a friend that did that to her too. She was damned funny and she SHOULD have her own comedy show. Her delivery was spot on!  It was later explained to me it is a Puerto Rican female genetic trait. Humor. Who knew?  Our visit was brief. Plans to meet Liz the following night perhaps? We all headed over to Elba’s while Elba popped into various markets purchasing food for the gigantic feast Orlando had requested. Apparently the paint had dried and all her furniture had been put back into place.  My brains were scrambled eggs and I was slowly losing the feeling in my feet.  Having been awake for nearly 36 hours was taking it’s toll and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Case in point: I whipped out my smartphone to look at Facebook on a street corner and Orlando barked at me to put it away. Many young men would like a smart phone like mine he informed me.. I see.  Well I then requested that we get Elba back ASAP because I was walking around like The Living Dead and only digesting part of whatever I heard.                                                           

More walking until we reach The Projects. Through the hallway where men were just hanging out…looking furtive and dangerous.  Jess and Martin and the baby were already in Elba’s apartment.  Yup – Lando was right. The blazer and the dress shoes were absolutely a drawback at the moment. Elba plowed onward, unphased by all of this. She chattered comfortably about news of that family member and life around The Projects. She seemed content. Why did I want to pluck her out of this place? Just because I saw scary looking men didn’t mean she did.
Her apartment was nice. It was very comfortable and didn’t really look as if it belonged in this building. Everything seemed new. I sat on the couch and well…that’s all she wrote. I couldn’t keep my eyes open so I nodded off right in front of Jessica and Martin and Mariah. Orlando knew we needed to get back to the Hotel Room. We were coming back tomorrow anyway. We zipped outside –through the lobby with even more scary looking men and caught a cab. As the taxicab sped along the congested brightly lit streets, I mumbled to Orlando that we had to rescue Elba from the projects! “ No honey.” He said placating me. “ She doesn’t want to be rescued. Trust me on this.”

Orlando knows Elba better than I by far

We arrived to our Hotel room. Each room was a tribute to a silver screen star. Ours was the perpetually kissing Tony Curtis. How appropriate. It was Saturday Night in THE BIG APPLE.  So we were going to just take a quick disco nap and paint the town red later…except we didn’t awaken until  7AM the next morning.  (Sigh)

The Actor turned Writer starts a Travel Blog

It was doubtful whether it would be a restful vacation but it was very clear that it would be a busy one filled with visiting family. As many people know, seeing your family doesn’t easily create an atmosphere of rest and relaxation. The Landobear and I were headed East to see our families and hopefully spend a little get away time.  I wasn’t sure if I could combine the two, but I was going to try. Slowly but surely, I was acquiring the talent for viewing my newfound identity as a couple. I had a new family, and there were more to meet. To Orlando this was old hat. To me…well, I was a bit nervous.  The first leg of the trip involved a 3 and a half day stay in New York City. The Second leg of the trip was Vermont to celebrate my Mother’s 80th Birthday.   Orlando’s baby sister was traveling up from Delaware with her husband, and her nearly 2 year old daughter to meet us at his Aunt Elba’s in Spanish Harlem. Orlando hadn’t seen Jess in decades, which meant of course he had never met his niece Mariah. Last Christmas we picked out a little red velvet Christmas Dress for her, which she got after Christmas.  By the time it got there she had grown a size too big to wear it.

Brother and Sister

The red eye through Delta from SF to JFK was a miserable 5 hour and 45 minutes. I was lucky that I sat next to a young woman who smelled pleasant. We dozed but the seats were cramped, and by the end of the flight both of our ass cheeks felt significantly flattened. There was much tossing and turning as Orlando took his neck pillow and used it as an ass cushion.  Orlando was savvy enough to figure out how to get us to our hotel. I had booked us a room at the Chelsea Pines Inn to Orlando’s consternation. He was going to have us stay with Elba, or perhaps his cousin Liz, but I explained that part about this vacation having some relaxing elements to it. I said having a hotel room to get away to would create it.  Orlando is an accountant, and he just rolled his eyes and said in a resigned tone, “ Let the money hemorrhage begin! “
Despite my blear of a bad night’s sleep, my excitement to see a city I hadn’t visited for nearly 30 years seemed to give a much needed jolt of energy. Lando deftly navigated the Subway after a brief misunderstanding in which we purchased a $20 Air Bus tickets instead of the $20 Metro tickets. After Orlando got his “New York on”, (yelling and swearing until the issue was solved) we learned that we had to mail in a request for the misallocated travel funds.  After learning this the yelling simmered down to a slow burn.  We dropped off our bags at the hotel and did a whirlwind tour of Chelsea, and then along the Hudson seeing the view of New Jersey across the Bay.

I was amazed at the amount of people everywhere.  It seemed that there it was not so easy to go and find a space where one didn’t see or hear others. It was Saturday so they were all running , shopping at street markets and strolling about in general.  New Yorkers seemed to pay particular attention to their Blue Jeans. I found myself walking behind some pretty fancily stitched pockets. Strange dreadful odors would belch from various crevices of the city unexpectedly. I noticed that the Natives dodged the odiferous expulsions with ease, but an innocent tourist’s nostrils would get assaulted frequently.  The Subway  air temperature runs  warm and I could see how the city’s homeless population could stay nice and toasty in the winter with some thoughtful  route planning. A question frequently  crossed my mind, how did all these buildings stayed atop this spider web of underground tunnels? I would think that the earth could not support them all. There was no engineer to answer my concern.      

After Lunch and checking into the Hotel we met Orlando’s family in Spanish Harlem.  Apparently his Aunt Elba had just had her apartment painted and could not cook us all dinner. I noticed that this was expected by Orlando – as well as Elba herself. It was understood that she would make the great meal for all of us. When O heard that dinner at her place was no longer an option he told her to find a restaurant that would supply his need for some well-prepared Puerto Rican delicacies. You would think after nearly 4 years  with him that my knowledge of Puerto Rican Cuisine would be quite good but it was rudimentary at best. Most of it I learned on one of my favorite travel /food shows with that arrogant but somehow likeable Chef Tony Bourdain. ( It seems to me if you were going to be successful as a Chef that you have to be an asshole. Anthony Bourdain had this down pat- but rumor has it that he had a kid and it has mellowed him out somewhat.)

My fearless Leader Lando

I was catching on and dodged the stenches and the self-important well-dressed New Yorkers a little more gracefully all the while trying to drink in the sites downtown. Orlando impressed me yet again with how quickly we arrived to the right avenue. He pointed out to me how far more logical this transportation system was than the San Francisco one. I figured it wasn’t sinking in as quickly with me because it had a lot numbers. I seemed to respond to Letters better. After seeing what the average New Yorker put up with in its Metro system, I decided to never complain again about a smelly BART Car.
Before I knew it, we were crossing the street to greet Orlando’s Aunt Elba, his baby sister Jessica and her husband Martin and their downright adorable daughter Mariah. ( It figures that his new niece would have the same first name as one of his favorite singers.) When we looked down at her sweet little face we both fell in love instantly. Whatever parental instincts we had inside us surged forth in a most unnatural and vaguely embarrassing manner. Orlando tickled her much to her delight and I engaged her in various serious conversations about pigeons and concrete.  You should know I don’t take to children easily.  My love for them is conditional. She looked just like a baby Natalie Wood.

How could I resist her?? One of my favorite movies is Miracle on 34th Street with a little Natalie Wood. I wasn’t anywhere near 34th St when I met Mariah but still you can see the significance-right?   I was nervous about meeting Elba and Jessica. I had dressed to impress. I changed out my sneakers for a slightly less comfortable dress shoe and I wore a Black Calvin Klein Blazer, an appropriately rich red dress shirt and a pair of jeans. Orlando looked at me after I had changed and said, “Really honey – you don’t have to do that” but I wanted the confidence it would give me.  When I hugged both of them it was if we had always known each other. There was no need to impress.

Elba needed to help out Lisa

Orlando approved

Bacalaitos

Elba said she just had a little task to do before we went to dinner. She was helping her former daughter-in-law who ran a lingerie store called “ Too Fierce “. That seemed like an ideal name for a store to be frequented by Drag Queens but I didn’t see a single one. Well maybe I did but ..I can’t be sure whether she was a full on transsexual or not.  

Fierce Lady

Lisa, Elba’s former daughter in law, had learned that her customers wanted more than just crotchless panties and glittered high heels. They wanted authentic Puerto Rican Street food to go along with the authentic Puerto Rican block party going on just around the corner.  Food –as I may have mentioned-was Elba’s specialty and that’s why we were all convening at “Too Fierce”. Elba had agreed to assist Lisa with some cooking .  So right beside the various types of fish net hose and lace up bodices, Elba deftly patted together cooked seasoned ground pork  and cheese into a little pasty to be deep fried  in front of the store.  These were empanadas and they were delicious. Lisa and Elba had quite a little gathering in front of the store. This one particular “ Fierce lady” was a devoted and regular customer. She was also a tad demanding. She was craving something called a Bacalaitos. - a codfish fritter.  Unfortunately Lisa didn’t have the ingredients to make them. The Fierce lady was undeterred , so Lisa’s husband ran out for supplies to make them. The product was mixed up in the bathroom in back in one of the sinks and later many Bacalaitos were frying away merrily in the various Gas stoves in front of the Lingerie store . Eventually the Fierce lady got her fish fritter for the bargain rate of a mere dollar. She disappeared for a bit but the crowd was still strong and Elba was in her element.    (To Be Continued)

Shaken but not Stirred

 Perhaps people predicted it. In fact many would have said it was inevitable.  A Diva Bear of my magnitude was bound to get a little squirrelly, without having hearing some genuine applause just for him. There were only so many times I could crank up Bernadette Peters Entrance at Carnegie Hall on my Ipod and pretend the adulation was for me. The move from the 6^th floor from the third floor here at The Mayfair has prevented me from discovering what can fill the void of my former theater world.

Orlando continues to find a routine that suits him. He has found some racquet ball players at the gym downtown that actually challenge him and is finding more and more opportunities to play. This is leaving me with more and more opportunities to not be joined at the hip with him. I now have an apartment to decorate with a budget applicable to Flea Markets and Target….that’s about it as far as my creative energies go. I did find a small audience of photographers to mug for but more on that later.

 I hate to admit this but I was finding living with my lover challenging. This was new to me. It occurred to me, that I had lived alone for at least 15 years and was accustomed to living life the way I wanted to live it. The two years that Orlando and I had been dating was a weekend relationship. Some people thought that was the ideal situation. My  co-worker, Kim would ride BART back to San Francisco with me and often tell me what a sweet deal I had going during those two years.  Kim is a slim, snappy, bright-eyed fifty -something actor who I have known for nearly two decades. Depending on how much debauchery he has encountered the night before, he can either appear like a charming country Doctor with a wickedly playful gleam in his eye that makes you want to hug your children a little closer to you or the Crypt keeper. He is an avid cigarette smoker and on certain stressful days he smells like he has rolled around in a giant ashtray. His attempts at quitting are hard on us all so we have simply stopped encouraging him. In our younger years Kim and I had similar tastes in men and it led to some awkward moments. The awkward moments basically involved me telling him that I thought a certain boy was cute and then finding out he slept with said certain boy a week or so later. I am not particularly proud of my learning curve on this, seeing as how Kim did it at least three times to me. It must have really irked me because Kim had a long time on and off again affair with an Indian Boy and I “allowed my heart to be open” to the possibilities with this Indian Boy. This upset Kim greatly, (his eyes bulged and his ice cubes shook like crazy in his cocktail) and marked the end of the “sharing” of potential hook ups.

He works part time at the Skilled Nursing Facility with me organizing our fairly substantial volunteer base. We have also worked together in a few theatrical productions throughout the years.

Despite the resolution with the Indian Boy of oh-so-long-ago, I always feel like Charlie Brown with Kim as Lucy holding the football encouraging me to kick it with all my might -and then just at the strategic moment he deftly pulls it away and I go sailing away into the air landing with a resounding “Whump!” on my back. “Trust” and “Kim” just don’t seem like two things that go together when it comes to our odd decades-long friendship.

Several months ago, When I told Kim about Orlando’s impending arrival to Oakland he looked at me doubtfully, and tapped his cigarette packets on his bony knee tamping down the tobacco. “ I dunno P.A.” he drawled in his signature Carol Channing rasp. His voice is truly remarkable, and one of his best tools as an actor. He used to have a lovely honeyed tenor singing voice that years of smoking have made not so honeyed.  When he speaks, it often sounds like wet gravel being poured over an old music box and sometimes reminds me of a character from the old West. When I greet him, I always mock him saying his name the way he would say mine by braying “KIM!” as loudly as I could, and then he always greets me back with “PEEYAAY!” with an ear cringing lower toned screech that almost always tops mine. I began to get a little tense as Kim elaborated on why he thought Orlando moving in with me was a bad idea. “I mean think about it, PeeeYay. You’ve got the Best of Both worlds right now. You get to see your boyfriend on the weekends and you get 5 days of the week allllll to yourself. (He leaned in on the alllllll, so I got a good whiff of tobacco).  He Cawed on, “ 5 days a week to do whatever you want with your time..” Kim looked at me pointedly with his beady glittering eyes.Yes I got it. While Orlando and I didn’t live together yet we had a “Don’t ask don’t tell” agreement set into place. Living three hours apart and being the horny men we were , it just didn’t seem reasonable to expect monogamy at this point. In fact Orlando and I truly didn’t believe in monogamy having seeing it fail all around us time and again. We both felt that men aren’t wired that way. What I hadn’t given a lot of thought to was when we lived together how we would sort that all out. When I was in nursery school my mother had to be called to pick me up because another little boy rode my tricycle and well…it didn’t go over well. I even found some things she had saved through the years stating from various elementary school teachers that, “Paul seems to have trouble sharing.” I knew something would have to give. My middleaged New England Libido was not going to keep up with his Puerto Rican Libido so I had better learn to let other boys ride my tricycle. Kim’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. “Right now you have the BEST of both worlds!” and he patted my thigh and cackled. It was clear that Kim didn’t think that Orlando moving in was a good idea. Well…not a good idea for him anyway.

Now the rides on BART with KIM are significantly shorter since I live in Oakland, yet we still ride together. I haven’t told him that I really am over the whole acting part of theater because I am sure he wouldn’t believe it. At this particular time, I was still living in a postage stamped sized studio with Lando. He narrowed his beady brown eyes at me.   He has an uncanny talent for sniffing out a person’s weaknesses out and he could see that the strain of living in a small studio with Orlando and not having enough “me” time was beginning to show around my eyes.  “ I tell ya PA, I couldn’t do it.” He cackled , “ I don’t have what it takes.”  I had visions of him cocktailing and crowing to those that we mutually knew, “There’s trouble in Bear Paradise!!!” I didn’t want this to get out of hand. I did whatever damage control I could. “It’s not awful Kim. I just need to get used to being cleaner and organized, and learn to…go with the flow more.”

He looked thoughtful for a second. It was if the alligator had flipped over and showed his vulnerable tender belly and I saw my chance. I wasn’t sure, it seemed, somewhere in those  Absolut Vodka soaked eyes he was envisoning or remembering a moment where he may have lived with a lover.  Then he spat out, “I don’t flow well with others.” He bit off each word. …I thought out carefully what I was going to say next and then spoke. “You see, the real challenge for me in all of this is to be as generous and as giving to him as he is to me. I mean he is so thoughtful to me and I just hate to think that I might be an imposition to him in any way because he really goes out of his way to make my life easier. He makes breakfast for me, rubs my feet, tells me he loves me at just the right times when I need to hear it and it’s great to have someone there to cuddle with every night on the couch. I just sometimes don’t think that I can measure up to his thoughtfulness.” The irony here is that you are thinking I made that up to keep Kim from blabbing to everyone that PA is not as happy as his Facebook posts make him out to be? Every word of what I told Kim is true. I worry every day that I don’t measure up..then again I worry every day period. (Thanks Mom)

 That apparently worked because Kim picked up the Newspaper and snapped it open so sharply  that it sounded like a rifle crack-even above the din of the BART train, and began to read it, completely ignoring me ,  after murmuring a dismissive, “Well that’s nice”

Well I did eventually find something to do. I had done a trade with Photographer Bill McClaren (profile to follow). He did a shoot with me if I agreed to be one of his models for his Fine Art Photography Workshops. However, I agreed to do the workshop and well…that was going to cut into our Pride Parade celebration a bit. It fell on a Gay Pride Sunday. That turned out to be not such a bad thing. You would think that a city full of queens would have fabulously creative floats to rival the Rose Bowl but no…it’s a surprisingly boring parade.  Hey LOOK everyone – It’s all the Gay and Lesbian PG&E workers… whoopee. The pictures contained in the blog are from that workshop. I work with the photographers and it is kinda fun. They get to learn how to work with Models.They think I am pretty keen and say how expressive I am etc etc etc. It's not exactly like applause...but it'll do.

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You got the Bear- Now what?

Me and Gal Pal Drew in "Bad Dream"

POW !

Orlando is a little concerned. Not only has he entered the Funhouse of P.A., it truly hit him last night as we were going to bed that I have indeed given up acting. I think what really frightens him is that I may end up focusing fully on him. “But you love it so..” he said in his sweet little boo boo voice which makes me want to squeeze his head and kiss his face.

“Loved dear..as in past tense. I’ll always enjoy  watching it and perhaps talking about it, but the whole process of being in a play or almost any show just depresses and overwhelms me. It’s no fun anymore. I over think everything. I am saying my lines in my head before I speak them. My hands shake so badly I can barely hold a prop. I can’t relax and enjoy the audience anymore because I am too worried and focusing on their reactions. Don’t worry. I’m not going to miss it.”

We crawled into bed and he growled and bit my ear and then pulled me into him closer. “I dunno Honey. It just seems like it’s a central part of your being-of who you are.” I was worried for a second he was going to bring up Jeffrey as a possible irrational reason for this choice, Jeffrey who you may recall- had died of cancer a few years ago was an integral part of my San Francisco theater world and cronies. He died an ex-friend-much to my chagrin. This lack of resolution made me distance myself from nearly everything and everyone related to him. There was once a powerful drive to do it physically when I was considering leaving my job and moving up to Redding CA to live with Orlando. After some clear thinking, two realizations came to surface; FIRST I should want to move because I want to live with Orlando -and no other reason and SECOND -Redding California is hotter than the hinges of hell 8 months of the year. Eventually -the  mutual theater cronies that Jeffrey and I had that mattered to me, (all three) began to wander back into my life. It was if they knew and we never had to talk about it. Still my desire to go back to the stage never felt the same.

I flipped over from our spoon position and touched noses with Orlando in the dark. “It’s Okay” I whispered. Then I realized I was whispering and spoke full voice. “ I am not going to miss working 40 hours a week and rehearsing 35 and feeling exhausted all the time-and barely getting paid for any of it. I am not going to miss egomaniacal Director’s who would rather exercise their mind control then their ability to direct a play. I am not going to miss being told I am too Gay to play certain characters. I am not going to miss playing truly queeney characters. I won’t miss working in drafty poorly heated theaters that smell weird. I won’t miss working with dysfunctional costars with a myriad of personality disorders. I won’t miss sucking up to people who are vapid and unkind to help the theater I am performing in to get the things it needs because it doesn’t have any money. I won’t miss never having a weekend free-think about that one honey-. It’s stupid. It’s not like it’s Broadway and I am Channing saying I am through and I’m never doing another Dolly! I am P.A. Cooley. A guy that a handful of Gay Senior Citizens in San Francisco might - I say MIGHT... remember. I am not famous.

“alrighty then”  He attempted to drift off. I grabbed his shoulder.

Party ON Garth

“BUT...there’s always film...I mean. It’s a medium I can control. Editing - no audience -no surprise elements The technology is changing all the time making easier and easier for the average Joe to make films. If I can just start filming those exchanges I want to start doing with Drew and I ya know- chatting and work on editing them and you can help too.!!! You are getting really good with my cameras...so...

“Yes ..yeah - of course...( he yawned ) I mean -I was just thinking. Maybe you could find something to do yourself?”

“Myself?” I asked

“Yeah ..well I mean. I got my racquet ball going on now at the gym and since you are not doing theater ,maybe you could form a group or something? “

A group? A group of guys videoing each other...? “

Oh C’mon! You know what I mean!  (To Be Continued)

The Ones that got away -Thank God!

 I sank back gratefully into the couch cushions feeling like I had been racing around   Disneyland for a solid month. Orlando and I had been living together for only about 3 weeks now. Currently he was off investigating a new gym to play racquet ball in.  I sipped on my cocktail. It had been days…weeks even since I had just come home after work and made myself a drink and plopped on the couch and flipped on Tivo… alone.  Orlando’s shiny impressive flat screen massive TV now stood where my very Old very large clunky one had once sat. We didn’t have the energy to deal with selling my TV, so we just lugged it to the technology recycling pile in the garage of our building.

  I listened to the early evening sounds of our building around me, and the very faint hiss and whistle of the radiator.  Despite the fact that we had unpacked every box, the apartment still had a cluttered appearance. The bits of paper around my desk were dropping to the floor. His various back packs –ok he only had 2 –plus his lap top bag, were strewn around his “place”. He seemed to gravitate toward the Club chair. I liked looking over at him just after dinner, watching him struggle to stay awake when we watched TV. Eventually our evening cocktail and the dinner won out and his head would sink back into the soft club chair for a cat nap of 20 minutes or more –eyes closed –mouth wide open and I found it endearing. Especially when his head snapped back up and he asked, “What’d I miss?”

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I got fetal on the couch with my cocktail and balefully glared at an unruly shelf in desperate need of clearing.  Then a new thought fibrillated through my body and I sat up in surprise …”Hey..I live with someone now” There was no doubt I was living with the right one but,  I suddenly felt  like a race that I had been running for ever had finally finished. It was good feeling. Relief and not confusion settled over me.  A relationship –like raising children, is one of those learn-as- you- go- sort –of- things.  There are plenty of books and classes and helpful friends and relatives but you don’t get it until you are actually in the thick of it. I have learned much in the past few weeks. I have learned much in the past several years. It’s not that I am a late bloomer…I had been studying  how to do this for a very long time and now it was time to practice what I had “learnt”

Before I had met Orlando my relationships were not exactly wise choices-at least not on the inside but on the outside they seemed like very good choices.  Allow me to explain. One man worked for a non-profit and his job was to glad hand big wigs into giving this particular non-profit money. He is attractive in a congenial good guy way that almost gives off a cherubic innocence. He’s the kind of guy that could watch a football game or a Science Fiction Movie. He was very good at his job. He was so good in fact that the San Francisco Examiner took note of it and pointed him out as one of the up and coming stars to keep an eye on. (It helped him that his non-profit was enormously appealing too, because it gave enterprising kids a chance to succeed in forming their own businesses.) He was age appropriate (38) and dammit…he looked good on my arm-and vice versa.

As my Jewish Friend asked, “It didn’t take?” No –it didn’t take. At that point in my life I kinda told my boss of 7 years (at the time a Mortgage Broker) to go take long walk of a short pier. Thinking that a bright impressionable lad like myself could reinvent myself, I figured getting a new job would be a piece of Princess Cake. I didn’t realize the economy would choose that particular time to tank. The San Francisco Examiner’s Pick of the Litter couldn’t handle the strain of being my personal bread winner and was fearful that at any given moment I would ask the fateful question, “ Honey? How do you feel about me moving in?” Since I was empathic and I loathed people sensing any weakness with in me. I cut bait and sailed Gay-ly forward. I have to admit -he was a good guy and the sexual attraction was still there, but he couldn’t handle vulnerable P.A. Strong P.A. on the other hand was another matter altogether….

My 24 hour rebound was ( all this unknown to me at the time) a high school senior named Bam Bam. When Mr. SF Examiner and I were breaking up at the Mix quietly in the corner, my phone rang and it was Bam Bam asking when we were meeting that night.  I admit it. Look. Don’t judge. The writing was on the wall. I knew the relationship was doomed and earlier that day I had been trolling the internet for …attention. I held the phone looking directly at my soon-to-be-ex and said, “20 minutes.” My ex was shocked that I took a booty call during our break up but I was hurt that he felt he couldn’t handle the WHOLE P.A. Cooley and I needed comfort and Bam Bam looked… very comfortable to me. –and indeed he was. After my evening of comfort with the Bam, his phone rang the next morning. It was his Mom, making sure he wasn’t late for wrestling practice…she even asked where he was so she could pick him up and take him there. I strongly urged him to um…meet her on the corner somewhere. I tried very hard to resist the Bam’s charms for future assignations and succeeded…sometimes.

My attraction to big brown eyes and baldheads and dark skin never faded …(Orlando may be Puerto Rican but take a good look.) and after Mr. Examiner I met The Nurse. Well one would think that a Nurse would make an excellent life partner right? WRONG!  Be wary of a nurse. A Guy or Gal who spends their days being humiliated daily by ego maniacal Doctors, after doing very difficult thankless work that requires intestinal fortitude is either very crazy or a living Saint. I know. I work with them everyday. Let me tell you. The Saints are very few and far between. This one lived in LA. His big loving moment with me was when he drove up to see me on 4 hours of sleep after I had a horrible dental procedure that left me swollen and doped up on my couch. I awoke on my couch to find him asleep on the rug beside me holding my hand. It endeared him to me so I fell down the rabbit hole of love yet again.

I waited tables on weekends part time, so he always drove up to see me. He was 23 at the time. He made twice what I made at my two jobs, but when I bought him an inexpensive pair of sneakers he got on the phone and crowed to his friends how his man got him some new “treads” Did I mention he looked liked a thug? I liked the Ying and Yang that he looked like he might kill you, but he spent the day being compassionate to frail sickly people…(or so I thought). In the end, I lent him several hundred dollars feeling guilty about him having to pay for all that gas for his Mercedes. This turned out to be a poorly thought out move. Upon lending him the money he dumped me immediately and told me “I was no better than a woman”. I never saw the money again.  In retrospect I found it more irritating that he found calling me a woman insulting than the actual act of being dumped. I recall going through the motions of being heart broken and well…not being all that into it. I was furious about losing my money. It got a little worse as he left some maniacal rants on my voicemail indicating he was truly unhinged. He said he had a mysterious genetic disease for which there was no cure and he would be dead in 2 years. Well it’s been 4 years. He looks healthy and he’s moved to San Francisco now. He looks very cerebral and introspective in wire rimmed glasses and khakis and expensive sweaters. When I see him out and about, we glance at each other making note of each other’s presence but that’s about it. He tries to friend me on facebook. I hit ignore. I’d rather hang with Mr. SFExaminer than the Nurse any day if I were to hang with an ex.

Then I met the Lando man. It was all supposed to be a weekend hook up and well ….that hook up has been going on since 2009. (An Author smiles smugly to himself, sips drink, and stops writing to watch Chelsea Handler. Author is enormously pleased with how things all worked out)