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Showing posts from May, 2010

Memorial Day

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The limo pulled up to my house right on time this morning, ready to take me off to CNN's studio in Manhattan. I was to be a guest on the morning program for a Memorial Day segment. I had been invited to read a poem that my father had written about his experience as a soldier in World War II. And I still couldn’t believe it was happening. I was a mess. I had spent the previous day conjuring up all sorts of gruesome scenarios and whining to friends, family and anybody else I could tackle about all the catastrophes that were surely waiting for me just around the bend. Is any of this news to people who know me? I didn’t think so. “Take a reprieve from the negativity,” my ex-girlfriend told me. “This is Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” I had actually turned down the offer of a car--thank you, Sister Frances-- and volunteered to come to the studio by subway, but my ex lit a fire under my butt and told me to get the damn limo. The TV appearance was a follow up to a CNN.com story about the poem

'Roaring Virile Fire'

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Last week, a 53-year-old computer science professor in China was sent to prison for organizing and participating in at least 18 orgies. The professor, a member of swingers clubs that engaged in group sex and partner swapping, was charged with “crowd licentiousness,” which is probably more fun than being licentious all by yourself. One of the things that struck me about this story—aside from the fact that he held these events in a two-room apartment that he shared with his Alzhemier's-afflicted mother—was the defendant’s online chat room handle: “Roaring Virile Fire.” Now that's what I call a handle. I turned 53 today and I've decided that I’m going to adopt this nom de schwantz to mark this auspicious occasion. Since the original RVF is going to be busy for a while, I’m sure he won’t mind. Usually I mark my birthday by spending the day moping and whining about how old I’m getting, how little I’ve accomplished, what the hell is wrong with me, etc. But then I realized

Lost Empire

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I saw David Lynch’s Inland Empire yesterday…or was it tomorrow? Whenever it was, I wish to hell I hadn’t. . Now I happen to be a big David Lynch fan. Who could forget Dennis Hopper’s priceless "don't fucking look at me" scene and the "In Dreams” lip synch in Blue Velvet ? I enjoyed Mulholland Drive no end--and not just for the smoking hot girl-on-girl scene, you dirty-minded buggers. Back in the Nineties, when I was living in Pennsylvania, I couldn't get enough of Twin Peaks . I even attended a Peaks party at a bar in Easton. So I was pretty psyched when I ripped open the Netflix envelope and slid the Inland Empire disc into my DVD player. After a hard day at work, I was looking forward to some inspired weirdness. The trouble started as soon as I hit the “Play” button and heard my DVD player rumbling like a station wagon stuck in the mud. I tried cleaning the disc but it still wouldn’t play. Talk about a sign from God. It couldn’t have been any plainer if it

Blogfest is Coming

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All right, bloggers, prepare yourselves: the Fifth Annual Brooklyn Blogfest is going to happen on Tuesday, June 8th. This yearly get-together of the borough's bloggers will kick off at 7 pm at the Brooklyn Lyceum , 227 Fourth Avenue at President Street in Park Slope. I've been going to Blogfest for the last three years now and I've had a blast every time. You get a chance to meet the people behind the keyboards, exchange ideas, expand your horizons and guzzle alcoholic beverages. This year's event will include a video tribute to Brooklyn's most visionary photo bloggers, special networking sessions for like-minded bloggers (i.e. Blogs of a Feather), the return of the ever-popular Shout-out when bloggers are invited to share their blogs with the world (moderated by yours truly), and a roof-raising after-party with ABSOLUT® VODKA cocktails, food and music. There will also be--dare I say it?-- surprise special guests . There, I said it. "The borough of Brooklyn has

Mime Games

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I had a lovely conversation with a mime the other night. She was off-duty, so she was able to speak with me rather than act out her responses. Her name was Margot and I met her on the 59th Street train station in Brooklyn. I had just gotten off the N train and joined the rest of the lost souls who wait, and wait, and wait for the R train to arrive so we can finish the last leg of our journey home. Bay Ridge residents often refer to these trains as the "Rarely" and the "Never," which should give you an idea of what the service is like. As I walked up the platform I saw a young woman sitting on a small suitcase. She looked so different from everybody else on the platform, so happy, that when our eyes met, we smiled. I was going to leave it at that and keep walking, but I forced myself to slow down and enjoy life a little. “You’ve got your own chair,” I said. She laughed and we kept on talking. She told me she was a mime, which was intriguing since I never met a mime