I've recently found a couple old CDs that I used to love years ago, Emotional Rollercoaster and Be Political, Not Polite. Ron Romanovsky and Paul Phillips wrote and recorded these albums in the late 80's-early 90's, and they are still as captivating and relevant now as they were then and when I first listened to them in the mid-90's (and kept on listening. They're fairly worn now). These albums are a constant testament to the undying determination of these men to stand up for their sexual identity, their rights, and HIV/AIDS awareness. This emphasis is present throughout the albums. While specific songs have their own moods, from humorous ("Oh No, I'm In Love...," "Tango Indigesto") to melancholy ("Red Moon Over Boston," "When I Look Into Your Eyes"), many of the tracks are primarily political, with rousing choruses such as "No False Hope" and "Be On The Safe Side," and some that come as blunt as a hammer, such as "The Sodomy Song." And, just as important as the messages these songs convey, it's just plain good music. With well-crafted vocal harmonies, various instrumental accompaniments and well-written lyrics ("Now I try to learn to call you my ex-lover/But how do you ex-love someone?"), these are albums that deserve a place in the collection of any music lover who isn't scared to be vocal about their support of gay and lesbian rights and lifestyles.

Human beings are so woefully inadequate to the expectations that are put upon us-- even though we are the ones that set those expectations.

Joy, beauty, and happiness are all ways of forgetting all the other stupid crap we're dealing with. Ignorance is bliss.

The cost of individuality is loneliness. Because we are all different, there is noone exactly like you, and you are alone in yourself. The path out of loneliness is recognition that that which makes us different is also what we have in common. Because we are ALL unique, what makes us different also makes us the same.

There's a page in my copy of Zen Comics that has amused me since I was little. The comic tells the story of four monks who went into a temple to observe a three-day silent fast. On the first two days, everything went smoothly. On the third day, however, the first monk asked one of the others to light a lamp. The second replied, "Ssh! We're supposed to be silent!" The third then rebuked the second, saying, "Fool! Why did YOU say anything?" The fourth, quite pleased with himself, said, "Look at you three! I'm the only one who didn't say anything!" Well, I'm not taking three days, but tomorrow I am observing the GLSEN Day of Silence, hoping that in doing so I can show solidarity with my gay, lesbian, transgendered, and bisexual sisters and brothers who do not have the wonderfully supportive environment that I do. So please, to make my task a little simpler, please don't phone me tomorrow. ^_^

Listening to The Miserable Offenders, and realizing how much I miss singing.

There's a guy who lives a couple blocks down from here in a dead-end alleyway. I'd often pass him at his usual panhandling spot in front of the little sushi restaurant down on Oak street. He's a nice guy, I've chatted with him a couple times, and given him change when I've had it. It made me feel good for doing A Good Thing, and it seemed to cheer him up to have the money and conversation. Anyway, one night a few months ago, a buddy of mine from work, a regular smoker, had just been diagnosed wth lung cancer, and the prospects didn't look good. As a result, I was in a pretty depressed mood when I passed by the sushi house on my way home that evening. "Hey man, what's wrong?" The panhandler was looking at me quizzically, with his head cocked to one side. Wearily, I half waved my arm at him and mumbled something about not having any change, and kept walking. He wouldn't have any of that, though. He came up right alongside me and put his hand on my shoulder. "No, man, I mean you. What's wrong? You look like you ought to be in bed." I tried to find the words to tell him that I really didn't want to go over it, especially not with him-- but then I realized that I deperately did, that I needed to unburden myself, and that I couldn't to my friends or co-workers or family because they all knew too much backstory, and that made it too complicated, and I looked over into his face, his dirty, bedraggled, wanly smiling face, and he already knew. He nodded, then patted my shoulder and said, "Nothing can bring you peace but yourself." I just stood there, staring blankly, as he walked to his perch and went back to holding out a paper cup at the passerby. I watched for a minute, then numbly walked home and collapsed on the bed, stretched out with my eyes wide open, and remained that way until morning.

I still pass by him on my daily commute, still comment on what kind of year the Red Sox are having, still drop change into his paper cup. The difference is, now there's a smile in his eyes, recognizing the good work he's done in me. I no longer see him as an object of my charity. He's a friend, and a connection and bond in an uncertain world.

(Insightful quote courtesy of my somewhat distant relation, Ralph Waldo Emerson.)

By now, I'm home, and (mostly) set in my normal routine, which now, I am happy to say, involves a Dance Dance Revolution set in the basement. A couple of rounds on the dance mats every day is fun and good exercise. The game actually has a "Workout Mode", but I'm sweating enough in the standard game, and I'm too scared to try. Anyway, It's good to be home, and I'm gonna start doing some more creative writing in here again, probably some third-person narrative prose, maybe some verse here and there.

Tunes: "Long-Forgotten Fairytale", The Magnetic Fields.

I've been staying out of the crossfire so far in the BLX wars, but the time comes in every man's life when he's gotta take a stand for what he believes in. So here's to BLX 2.0, the way God intended BLX to be. Also, I'm all about the O-BLX: Open UR BLX movement. Remember: BLX wants to be free.

I'm forsaking my usual sleeping hours to start off on a venture out East in the early morning. Pippa is visiting her friend back in Jersey, and I'm taking advantage of the trip to visit a couple of colleges on my list, Sarah Lawrence and Goucher. I've been doing college research for a while, but it wasn't until tonight that the import of what I'm doing struck me. I'm laying the groundwork for a life away from what I've known. I'm taking steps to ensure that my time living with my family is limited. And one of the scariest things is that I can recognize something inside of me that is embracing this new upheaval and fresh start. There is still a faction that craves and loves the warmth and comfort of family life, though. The result of this is that my mind is playing tug-of-war with my thoughts and feelings; I am being stretched out, being pulled in opposite directions with such force that I worry that I will tear. All of this leaves me with the feeling that I don't know what I really want, tinged with vague despair. I'm trying not to dwell too much on it, though. Once again, there is an appropriate quote from Dune: "A process cannot be understood by stopping it. Understanding must move with the flow of the process, must join it and flow with it."

Tunes: "Yellow", Coldplay (iTMS); "What To Do", OK Go (iTMS); "Body Parts", Jump Little Children (iTMS).

Have I mentioned that I love Canada?