It's a family affair

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone who has expressed concern and sympathy for my aunt's illness. Last week was very rough. A week ago Wednesday, my aunt recieved impossibly good news. The tumor, the doctor said, was benign. That euphoria quickly gave way to resignation when she learned on Friday that the benign result was from a fat deposit around a much larger cancerous tumor.

My aunt is the member of my extended family to whom I am the closest. I would not be who I am if it weren't for her--when I was three days old, she gave me the name Jeremy. I will choose to look at her illness in the best possible light until all avenues of treatment have been exhausted. Thanks so much for your kind words and prayers, she can most definitely use them in this trying time.

So, speaking of family, this weekend I saw 'For the Bible Tells Me So' at SIFF. It's a documentary that chronicles five families who have grappled with their faith when one of the children comes of the closet. The film hit very close to home, and tears were literally streaming down my face for at least the last half hour. The film is never condescending, but definitely looks down on biblical literalism. It features some great interviews with some of the world's most progressive Christian thinkers, including Nobel Peace Prize winner Desmond Tutu, Peter J. Gomes, and Rev. Larry Keene. They are beacons of sanity making the rational counterpoint to the hellfire and brimstone that Jimmy Swaggart, Jerry Falwell, and their ilk espouse.

I truly feel that the reason I exist on a plane that is "less than" in my family structure is because of the church. My parents cannot reconcile my sexuality with their religion, and, as a result, I am not as worthy of their love as anyone else in my family. I have always placed the blame for this separation squarely at the feet of religion. This film helped me to remember that not all organized religion demonizes gays, and, in fact, the Episcopalian church recently confirmed a gay bishop.

I will be buying a copy of this film for my parents when it released on DVD--chances are they won't make it through the whole thing. They'll shut it off and consider it left-wing propaganda, but this film gave me hope that one day, I will be considered equal to my brothers. That's a hope I haven't felt in a very long time.

(Pictured is me and my niece at my dad's 70th birthday.)

It has begun

The Seattle International Film Festival kicked off last Thursday with a film entitled Son of Rambow. So many factions of friends had contacted me about going to see different films, that I caved and got a package for 20 films. I know, it sounds like a lot, but if you consider that most of the time I will be taking a companion, that only amounts to 10 films.
That still sounds like a lot which is why I will most likely be selling (at bargain basement prices) other pairs of tickets to friends, roommates, or strangers.

Anyway, Phil and I made it to the midnight showing of Them on Friday. Them is a French horror film that is acted ably by its two leads, Olivia Bonamy and the very attractive Michael Cohen. The fact that the film was in another language did, for some reason, add to the suspense, but overall, the film was a major bomb. In fact, I can't think of any effective French horror film. Brotherhood of the Wolf and High Tension were both mildly successful exports, but neither truly understood the mechanics of scaring. Them can be added to this list of unsuccessful French horror films.
Basically, the story is of a couple who are tormented by someone (or some ones) in their French provincial home. It is purportedly based on a true story, but the big "twist" at the end pales in comparison to horror masterpieces like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre's cannibal killers.
From an aesthetic standpoint, I was disappointed in the desaturated images. Color had been all but banished from the film. The set, which very well could have been an actual house, was quite nice. It, more than anything else, lent itself to horror. The whitewashed walls were uneven and the tall doors frequently broke the top of the frame. The story really lost momentum once the couple left the house.
Before the film, a short entitled The Eyes of Edward James played. The runtime on it was fifteen minutes and, through the use of voice over and a first person point of view, the director quickly sets a mood. The story is basically that of a hypnotist walking someone through a traumatic event they experienced. Unfortunately, there isn't enough visual cueing for the ending to really be effective. Additionally, we never get a sense of what happened in the house so the revelation at the end doesn't pack a punch. I believe the production company was called "Rue Morgue," and the story is much like a Poe tale, but could have been rendered a little more clearly.

Saturday, I met Keith and Risa for Judd Apatow's highly anticipated Knocked Up. It was a great film with tons of laughs. The entire cast hit their notes, and with the exception of one un-needed scene pushing the run time over two hours, the film was great. The theater was packed and laughing non-stop. I think it gets its wide release this Friday. You'll probably like it. (I know this guy will like it.)

I, Prostitue

The FDA recently called me an intravenous drug user and prostitute. Well, what they really said was that any man who has had sex with another man since 1977 is a drug-using prostitue. Okay, what they really said is that gay men still cannot give blood. The Red Cross, international blood association, and America's Blood Center all recommended a lift on the ban because modern HIV testing methods make the archaic rule obsolete. [article]
But the FDA, that lovely governmental workhorse headed by Andrew von Eschenbach, whose nomination for the position, consequently, was opposed by my senator, has chosen the path that this administration has taken over and over again--the path of fear.
Fear based discrimination is the easiest to spread and it is a choice this administration makes over and over again.

On a similar note, more gay linguists have been discharged from the army. [article]

And, of course, we have the contingency of African-American pastors lobbying congress. [article]

I'm tired of being made to feel like a second-class citizen. I'm tired that these drops in the bucket aren't overflowing--that we're all just taking it.

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest

Last night a tiny piece of me died. My very beloved Veronica Mars ended its run with a two-hour finale. I thought both episodes were quite good. They were a throwback to the early episodes and brought back many of the shows characters for a final goodbye. Many of the shows mysteries will go unsolved, but I'm okay with that. I will miss the show greatly, but the three stellar years it had on the air were satisfying.
Cheers to the cast and crew for demanding quality--even when kowtowing to the suits.

You probably noticed that the look of the vault has changed. I wanted to utilize the archiving and labeling functions more effectively, so I downloaded a new skin. I will be tweaking it over the coming weeks. Currently, I am going through my old posts and labeling them. My labels are kind of all over the place and I hope to consolidate them sometime after they have all been labeled.

Revelations

As I was watching Cheaters this weekend, a revelation came to me. It was as though the heavens opened up and revealed a tiny secret.

Being one of the few, proud bloggers who have met GayProf, I am frequently asked to describe GayProf's Gravitas. Besides the fact that it warrants a capital 'G,' his Gravitas has heretofore been ethereal. Sure, you can glean the tone from his stellar writing, but besides the occasional (skewed) reference to Stone Phillips I've never been able to put it into words.

Let me do so now.

GayProf=Joey Greco=GayProf=Joey Greco (ad infinitum)

We're just talking Gravitas here, tho. All other similarities end there. Obviously, Prof is much more attractive and intelligent. Some people even say he's the most desirable man on the internet. (No argument here--mainly because I couldn't take the weight of his Gravitas berating me for disagreeing.)

Here's an example of what I mean:

Tonight I wanna house you

So the new computer's here and that means I might be able to actually get a handle on my music collection. It also means that I can finally do screencaps and that I will (eventually) return to the canon of queer cinema. I know, you're totally stoked. Me, too. I'm finally going to clear my work computer of things like MixMeister and I'll start doing more picture stuff. I swear.

So I just spent a lot of money on Beatport. The least I can do is offer up some tracks for review purposes. As always, these tracks are not to be distributed and are for reviewing purposes only. They will remain on the site for a short time.

I would love to hear your takes on them, so feel free to comment.

First up is Chin Chin on Dialect records. I wasn't familiar with Chin Chin at all. I found the tracks because Chicken Lips remixes Appetite. Anyway, I was more fond of the original mix. The xylophone in the middle makes me think of a dance sequence from Love Boat or Fantasy Island. Another track on the EP is You Can't Hold Her which is more a tip of the hat to mid-70's soul with its horns. Really nice releases and a reminder that house music can be sexy and tongue-in-cheek all in one fell swoop.

So those two tracks are a bit of a departure from the sounds I've been ingesting lately. Much more on-par w/ my typical tastes is Ritch & Collins track on Get Physical, Fortuna. I really like the rave-y synth that comes in around 2:50. And I like the sorta bouncy (breathy?) bassline. All four releases on this EP are stellar.

What's that? You want all 4? Greedy bastards. Fine!

Pumkin (Original Mix) - Ritch & Collins

Waldorf - Ritch & Collins

Motion 12 - Ritch & Collins

Perhaps one of the strongest releases I've heard in a while comes from Tom Mangan on Souvenir. My Mysterious Ex-Teacher and the b-side, Texas are wonderfully constructed and expertly executed. If the real Texas were even marginally as beautiful as this track, chances are 7 days would not have been enough.

I got tons more, too, but I'm not gonna blow my wad all in one post. I'll stretch it out. (Oh, and in case you're paying attention, there's now a Box widget in the sidebar which contains all the tracks.)

So, in music news of a totally different vein, the Tony nominations were announced on Monday.

I'm sure you know that Grey Gardens, the documentary you know and love, has been made into a musical starring the amazingly talented Christine Ebersole.

Check her out singing "Revolutionary Costume". Tell me she's not channeling Little Edie.

Spent

Its funny how a week in Texas can feel like a year. It was hot. I slept inverted on the bed so that my head was directly under the fan. I tossed and turned like I haven't since I was an adolescent--I was in the room the room that was once mine, but now had the bed frame from my grandmother's house not my waterbed. The Billabong charcoal drawing that adorned the southfacing wall (a remnant from the times when my brother slept in the room) has been painted over, a lovely shade of green. My Catwoman poster has been replaced with some antique baptism gown or baby doll gown. Its luminesence in the night makes me think of the ghost of a dead child.
Beads of sweat materialize to dampen my pillow moments later because, and I think I've mentioned this, it was hot.
I drank a lot but only got drunk when I added tequila to my Bud Light (a trick my brother and his friend use at Jimmy Buffett concerts).
If there had been cigarettes around, I would have smoked them. Well, maybe.
This weekend also brought sad news about my mom's sister. She may have cancer of the pancreas. I saw my mother sob like I haven't in since--well, since the times when I made her cry. So I promised her that I would pray for my aunt. I promised my aunt that I would pray for her.
Those are lies that I still tell. I think coming out as an atheist to my family would be much more difficult than coming out as a homo was.
My family's lives feel like willful ignorance. They feel like Texas.
I also had dinner with three people I was in choir with in high school--1 guy and 2 girls. I slept with the guy on a regular basis. We never kissed. Seeing him again was bizarre. He looks just like his father, but acts just the same as when I knew him. He burst into some of the songs we sang in choir. All three of them remembered things of which I had no recollection.
He likes Buffy and Battlestar Galactica, and he's getting married for the second time in July. See? Experimentation during adolescence is completely normal--and I'm glad I had someone to practice on.
I told him that I was ordained and could perform his wedding ceremony.
All three of my dinner companions gave me a look like I was a little bit heretical.
My allergies were out of control. On the way to the airport this morning, I sneezed more than I have in the past year here in Seattle. The plane was delayed two hours because we needed a part. We weren't allowed to de-plane until 45 minutes later. Old women were complaining and children were crying. It was hot.
I am spent.

(More tomorrow, like what the new banner's all about.)

Like a prom dress

Well, I know things haven't been too exciting on ye olde blogge lately, and I apologize for that. Hopefully now that I have a computer at home again, I'll have time to blog more. You know, when this whole thing started, blogging at work was really easy. These days, I hardly have time for it at work.

I'm one week smoke free. Friday and Saturday nights were tough, but overall, it hasn't been as difficult this time around. My willpower and resolve are much stronger for some reason. I have this mindset of, I can't have a cigarette because if I have one I'll be smoking again. I really don't want to ruin the momentum that I've gained.

Anyway, I'm off to the scorched piece of earth known as Texas. My dad's turning 70. I really can't believe that. I'll get to see the nieces and nephews which is great.

So, I'm gonna leave you with "Turkey Lurkey Time" from the musical Promises, Promises. This clip is actually from the movie "Camp" which is cute, and you should check it out if you get a chance. Please watch it at least five times in a row. I hope it gets stuck in your head for as long as its been stuck in mine. Damn you Burt Bacharach!!!

Counting

4 more episodes of Veronica Mars left. (Chances of it getting picked up are VERY slim.)
13 hours without a cigarette.
2 days until my new computer arrives.
1 week until I leave for Texas.

May all your wishes come true

Happy birthday to a great guy!



Please do not use the baler.

Style council

Congrats to Paul for finally getting props from The Stranger!!

He's a supa-phly dresser and a wikkid-rad dancer. He was one of the first house headz I befriended in this town.

Watch men -or- lazy blogging

-or- what Phil and Jeremy pass back and forth to each other in the middle of the night (along with sweet nothings).

Zach Snyder (director of 300) talks about his take on Watchmen

2Xist runway show

and, for Bill, is this the commercial you remember?

We started dancin' and love put us into a groove

I know I gush about house music a lot. There's just nothing else like it. You don't stand around and wait for a song to finish, then politely applaud. You dance. You drink. You socialize. The music is certainly the centerpiece, but the party is nearly as important.
DJ Heather brought it (as was expected) to Neumo's. The sound there wasn't as stellar as the set up for when Green Velvet played there, but it was decent. I couldn't trainspot any of the tracks she dropped, but was quite pleased with a lack of vocals--at least, if there were vocals, they were filtered and stretched into noise. Her sound has moved away from what I consider to be a traditional Chicago sound, but it is still ass-heavy. A couple time I would even say that she tipped the scales into the 'bangin' category--deep bass drums at around 130bpm gave way to thwackier kicks at around 138bpm.
Her skills behind the deck are legendary, and even though Phil couldn't tell the difference between Heather and opener Carlos Mendoza, the afficianados out there could hear when the pro got behind the 1's and 2's. (Plus, Mendoza, of Lawnchar Generals fame has too many tracks w/ Latin horns--yuck!)
So, that being said, I still wasn't blown away. I was happy to see a lot of the old crew out--and I was happy to see the faces of the new guard, as well, but something was missing. Maybe I wasn't drunk enough (ha!).

So, this year, I've seen DJ Heather and Booka Shade--two acts I have nothing but love for--but I still haven't reached a high watermark. There hasn't been a set like Morgan Geist or, heck, even Swayzak to blow my mind.

Tonight is Jon Tejada. I'm a huge fan of what I know of him, but tonight will be the first time seeing him live. The only downside is the show is 18+. Yuck! I hate kids!

Tomorrow was supposed to be Luke Vibert, but [a]pendics.shuffle will be replacing him. More importantly, hometown heroes Jacob London are opening. And best news of all? The show is only $5!!!

Oh, and congratulations to Donte on his new column in The Stranger-- Bug in the Bassbin. Great first column, Donte! I'm really happy that someone so knowledgable is taking over from that old, stuck-up Jew Dave Segal (and your column title is WAY cooler than his was).

Movies You Should See -- Pin

Pin (1988) -- dir. Sandor Stern, Canada

I guess this needs a disclaimer: This film is not of the highest caliber as far as production values go. It is not a great film, but it is a film with great ideas executed ably. In fact, I may only like this film because my expectations for it were so low.

Pin is the story of Leon and Ursula, a brother and sister whose parents die in a car accident. The mother was a fanatically clean person and the father was distant, focused more on his career as a pediatrician. The father uses ventriloquy and a life-sized doll named Pin to tell his patients about what's happening in their bodies. He also uses Pin to explain things to his children. This causes Leon to form an unhealthy fixation on the inanimate object, and when the parents die, Pin is his last connection to his father.
Ursula does her best to raise her brother, but his burgeoning psychoses strain their relationship. Her suitors are focal points of his jealousy and rage and eventually a showdown has to occur.
David Hewlett of Stargate Atlantis stars as Leon. Terry O'Quinn from The X-Files plays the father. Sandor Stern, the writer/director does a great job with voice over and touching all the psychological bases. Make time in your busy movie schedule for Pin--I'm sure you won't be disappointed.

Goes well with:
Psycho
When a Stranger Calls

Molson

Butter tarts

Shoo shoe, the sent down word

I've noticed a lot of people type "shoe in" instead of "shoo in." I wonder if these people think the song goes "Shoe fly, don't bother me." What do you figure a shoe fly would look like? Something like this, I'd imagine.

Do you think a bite from a shoe fly would hurt more than that of a deer fly?

Maybe you could scare it off. You know, maybe you could say, like, "Shoo," or something.

While you're pondering these homonyms, might I recommend watching Xiu Xiu The Sent Down Girl and listening to Xiu Xiu's remix album while browsing the selection at Shoefly?

Remembering Saturday mornings

Between the Doublemint, Mountain Dew, and Oozinator, its no wonder I'm a homo.

Strictly for the hardcore

So, Movies You Should See will return next Monday, I swear. The post is almost ready and I'm sure I could have finished it yesterday, but I took the day off.
I needed some recovery time after this weekend's concerts.
If you didn't get a chance to see "That 80's Show" you can check out the preview here.
I'm pretty easy to pick out in the second act songs. I'm the only one w/o a white shirt on. I didn't have time to go home and get my gear. So, the bearded guy in the second row is me.
The shows were a success. A co-worker brought his daughter to the Saturday afternoon performance and they had a great time. Lynnie, Joyce, Joy Sue, Risa, Keith, and Phil all came on Sunday. They all said they had a great time, and I have no reason to believe otherwise.

Oh, you want to know about San Francisco.
Ok.
I hadn't been to SF in about eleven years, but I remembered the basic layout of the city. I was surprised how much it reminded me of Seattle (climate, layout, etc.). What Seattle desperately needs that SF does quite well is mass-transit. From the Oakland airport into the city was a breeze and once we were in the city, the MUNI worked well for getting us out to the 'hoods.
But we weren't in SF for sight-seeing. We were they there for, um, sound-hearing.
Booka Shade's set at the Mezzanine was great. It wasn't really the high-water mark of the year that I was anticipating it to be, but the boys knocked it out for sure. [If anyone knows what that last track they played was, please let me know!] My friend Matthew (not to be confused with roommate Matthew) moved out to SF about 6 mos. ago. He was kind enough to do some hand-holding to get us to the club and to show us a lovely time.
The only halfway salvagable picture from the cheap-o disposable I purchased is below. It features Mr. Matthew and myself in my fabulous hotel room.
Of course I ran into Seattlites in San Fran. Of course, I ran into them at H&M. Of course, they were both homos. One I knew from the chorus, the other from clubbing.
Small freakin' world.













Now its time for what you've all been waiting for.

That's right, OKDJ vol. 10 is ready to go.

OKDJ vol. 10

The Light You Will See (Trentemoller's Deep Dub Mix) - Trentemoller
Mayann - David K
Let Me Dance - Martin Landsky
Work in Progress - Darko Esser
Lucky Bastard - DJ T
Reach (Little More Mix) - Lil Mo Yin Yang
Seconds (Moonbeam remix) - Minilogue
Cardiology (Isolee remix) - Recloose
Want 2 Need 2 (Switch main mix) - Sharon Phillips
Higher State Of Consciousness (Dirty South & TV Rock Remix) - Josh Wink
Enter The Fear Who Will Be Slaughtered Next? - Jori Hulkkonen
Make Em Shake It (Stanton Warriors remix) - Wahoo
Mucky Star - Elektrochemie
Moan - Trentemoller

I think I did a pretty good job for the tenth installment. It has a lot of rave-y sounds courtesy of Strictly Rhythm. It opens with a deep house sounding dub by Trentemoller and ends with his gorgeous newest release on Poker Flat. Because this is the 10th one, I thought it only appropriate that the song that started my obsession be included. That would be Josh Wink's 'Higher State of Consciousness.' That track along with Moby's 'Go,' and the Bucketheads '(These Sounds) Fall Into My Mind' were the first tracks that really made me sit up and give notice to dance music.
It all been downhill since.

DJ Heather this Saturday. I can't wait.

This weekend

Yeah. I know, I haven't told you about the trip to SF, yet. Eat me. I'll get around to it. I've been wikkid hella krazee busy. Mostly with this

I swear I'll get around to the usual after this hectic time ends (four hours of sleep yesterday and probably four today).

Tuesdays with bloggy

I figure since realms are generally down on Tuesdays for patches, I can spend some time with ye olde blogge. Wow, between a Monday post about movies (who knows how long that will last) and a regular Tuesday post, you'd think I'd found some sort of routine or structure. Let me assure you, nothing could be farther from the truth. Nah, I think its just the spring time thing.

But enough about me, let's talk about me.

Last weekend was the debaucherous choir retreat. You can check out some pics here (WARNING: pics toward the end of the slideshow could be considered NSFW--but I assure you it was all harmless). Fort Worden was a great setting. I wish there had been more sunshine. It finally made an appearance on Sunday for the ferry ride home. Being out on the peninsula reminded me how much of this state I haven't seen and how I need to go on another outing with Earl and Bucko.

So, in other news, it is with a heavy heart that I relay news of Copacetique's going out of business sale. Janice is closing the doors and moving to New York to work at Fred Flare (check out how adorable she looks on their home page). I am very happy for her new job, but this is the end of an era in so many ways. It seems like just yesterday that she and Mike unpacked their belongings from the long move from Austin. We haven't seen each other a lot over the past year (I really haven't seen a lot of anyone), and I regret not spending more time with them.
Along with Copacetique, its zine-sister Copacetic, which was at one time in print and for which I was an on-again-off-again contributor, is also gone. I think the first issue came out in 1994. The first author Janice reviewed for it, Francesca Lia Block, later cited Copacetic in her non-fiction book Zine Scene.

I feel like I'm writing an obiutuary. I'll miss you Janice. Even though we should have spent much more time together, I really, really cherished each moment we had together. Whether it was walking down Market to Golden Gardens or going to shows like Ivy and Tahiti 80 and Belle & Sebastian (our first Seattle show together, then a year later with The Decemberists opening). It was nice knowing that you were close by. It was nice hearing your giggle behind Cheryl's show. I'll be in New York soon, I promise.

Next, though, I'm going to San Francisco. I'm going to see Booka Shade and hopefully an old friend.

After that is the choir concert. Phil's going on Sunday. When are you going?

Movies You Should See -- Songs from the Second Floor

Songs from the Second Floor - dir. Roy Andersson, 2000 (Sweden)

I didn't see this movie until about two years ago, but I'm glad it made its way into my Netflix queue. Based on the poetry of Cesar Vallejo, Andersson's film beautifully and precisely translates the language of poetry to the screen. Like Greenaway and Jarman, Andersson constructs tableaus to tackle the heady ideas of Vallejo. The static camera serves the material well. What is the film about, though?
Well, that's harder to pin down. "Blessed is he who sits down," is repeated throughout the film and the stillness implied by resting permeates nearly every scene. Annoyance at the trappings of modernity and the individual's sacrifice to them also plays a huge role. Of course, the military, religion and the creative process are addressed, as well. These are all ideas that good poets effortlessly reference, but until this film, filmmakers have never been able to capture. In one scene, a man clings to his boss' ankle as his boss drags him across the floor. In another, a salesman is throwing away crucifixes and talking about how he invested his life savings in a loser. The scene below borders the absurd, but absurdity follows no logic and holds no truth. This scene, in its dark (almost pitch) humor illuminates and condemns ritual. Its funny and surreal and, in its own peculiar way, poignant and moving.
Definitely make it a point to see this film. Its images will stay with you long after the movie ends.

Goes well with -
L'age D'or
Un Chien Andalou
Swedish Fish
Anderssons

Up and coming

Ahhhh, that's the sound of me letting out a sigh of relief that the musically sparse winter months are over. With spring comes the promise of some good shows. So get your pencils ready to mark some dates.

First and foremost is the Booka Shade show all the way down in San Francisco. Matt and I will be hitting up the city for a good ass-shaking, and while we're there, we'll catch up with my old bud Matty (who goes by Matthew now). The trip is to commemorate Matt's 28th birthday which was on February 20th. I know that it will be a better show than Sander Kleinenberg in Vancouver.

Anyway, you're not going to San Francisco, and you want to know where you can shake it 'round these parts.

March 27th - Ratatat @ Neumo's

March 30th - Mark Farina @ Neumo's (Mark's last 3 sets in Seattle have sucked huge donkey dick, but I'll still probably show)

April 7th - DJ Heather w/ The Lawnchair Generals @ Neumo's

April 13th - John Tejada w/ Lusine and Jerry Abstract @ Chop Suey

April 14th - Luke Vibert + Jacob London @ Re-Bar

April 21st - Junior Boys -- I'm not sure if they're at Neumo's or the Chop cuz they're listed on both

April 25th - SoulWax feat. 2 Many DJs

May 13th - Peter, Bjorn, & John @ Neumo's

The ones in bold are the ones I will not miss. (I'll even be rolling into work late & drunk on the night of the 25th.) As for the PB&J show on May 13th, I hope to make it, but I'm scheduled to be in Texas for my dad's 70th birthday. I'll be attempting to fly standby on that day, cuz I really want to see them.

Hope to see you out!

Humor me

While I found yesterday's NBC affiliate/Krispy Kreme debacle immensely amusing, what I've found even more amusinger is the thread that followed the post about the event at UWeekly.com--check it here.

And, in case you're not feeling extra clicky today, and you don't know what Krispy Kreme/NBC affiliate debacle to which I am referring, here ya go (hint: look at the copy at the lower right of the KK logo):

Movies You Should See -- Crazed Fruit

In an effort to give this blog some much need structure, I'm going to try to make my Monday posts about films. Not just any films, mind you, but FILMS. You know, the ones that have informed our sociopolitical discourse'n'shit. The ones that have inspired countless knock-offs and contributed to the language of cinema.

Yeah, that's right, important films.

The first film on my list is Crazed Fruit directed by Ko Nakahira and based on Shintaro Ishihara's novel. The film was released in 1956 and was shot in only 17 days. It tells the story of two brothers who fall in love with the same girl. Sure, the story seems age-old, but the way in which it is told somehow manages to be fresh, even by today's standards.

Natuhisa and Haruji are priveleged Japanese adolescents whose ennui leads them to the beach. There they meet the mysterious Eri. There's some really beautiful cinematography in this early section of the film. Most of it is shot on the beach, and this is perhaps how this film and others like it became known as taiyozoku ("sun tribe") films. These films are marked by youth, post-war disillusionment, and rebellion. Think of it as a Japanese Rebel without a Cause (it was released a year after Rebel).

Truffaut saw and loved the film. In fact, you can pull many, many references between Crazed Fruit and Jules and Jim. Pulling even further down through the annals of cinema, you can find nods to Crazed Fruit in Kids, The Doom Generation, Badlands, and a fistful of others. However, the film is not perfect--it is interesting but not perfect.

Criterion released this film last year and I got it for Matt for his birthday. We haven't sat down to watch it yet, but the bonus materials (commentary, at least) are supposed to be top-notch with some Japanese film scholar taking you through how the film came to be and what its lasting influence is.

There's some more history around the film regarding the author and the star (brothers). You can read more from the wikipedia link above. I guess the elder became a statesman and eventually penned a biography of his (now deceased) brother. Interesting.

Goes well with:

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami

Jules and Jim by Francois Truffaut

A Hundred Years of Japanese Film by Donald Richie

Sapporo

Boredom

Sorry.

Just not feeling it.

Even though I want to rail against the Seattle Sonics/Storm owners for contributing money to ridiculous causes.

Even though I want to tell you to watch The Sarah Silverman Program cuz A) its funny and B) the gay couple played by Brian Posehn and Steve Agee are perhaps the most fully formed gay dudes on TV--barely surpassing Satan on South Park.

Even though I could tell you about my amazing massage on Monday. No, it wasn't that kind of massage (although he did touch my balls, and I did sport a little wood).

Even though I could tell you about my upcoming plans: 300 on Friday, choir retreat next weekend, San Francisco the weekend after that, That 80's Concert the week after that, then off to see my dad for his 70th bday.

I'm just not feeling bloggish. Sorry.

Thick dreams

I didn't take Tylenol PM this morning when I got home from work. Sleep came quickly and easily even though I napped on the 40-or-so minute bus ride home from work. When I take the PM, I often wake to damp sheets or at least a moist pillowcase. There's something about it that makes me sweat in my sleep; also, my mouth hangs open and saliva runs in rivulets from pillowcase to top sheet. It sounds disgusting, and it is. Taking Tylenol PM also increases the need for laundering my 1000TC Egyptian cotton sheets. So I didn't take it this morning.
I wish I had.
I woke up around 6pm. That's early in my world. Its about two hours earlier than usual. My dreams were still crawling around in my head. There was a man holding a ferret with near-transluscent skin. He had on black leather gloves. He inserted two of his fingers into the squirming mammal's mouth and slowly forced them down its throat. His gloved fingers were visible through the struggling animal's skin. He must be wearing the gloves so he doesn't feel the ferret bites, I thought. I was so angry at that man. I was close enough to him to see fine details like the gold thread stitching on his gloves, but I was so far away that even if I ran at him he could get away. So I dream screamed at him. It was near-primal and completely silent.
The fact that I couldn't make sound only angered me more, and it was around that time that I woke up.
So that dream sat on my shoulders. Made my back hurt more. Made me edgy and gave me that feeling that there was something I had to do. Or something that I started that I needed to finish.
Like all of my dreams, I know its source. I know the ferret that demands some clinician/mafioso to probe it while it squirms. I know that my screams have been largely silent. Most of all, I know that I will do my best to ignore my subconscious mind until these squirmy feelings go away.

Whose line is it anyway?

Just for fun, here are some of my favorite movie quotes.

"I used to fuck guys like you in prison." -- Road House, 1989

"Is that your face or did your neck throw up?" -- Dazed and Confused, 1993

"Its a--Its a jellyfish." -- Rushmore, 1998

"I just . . . I hate you and I hate your ass face!" -- Waiting for Guffman, 1996

"Reminds me of home, without the choppers." -- Ticks, 1993

"You blow it tonight, girl, and its keggers with kids all next year." -- Heathers, 1989

"The heart is an organ of fire. I love that. I believe that." -- The English Patient, 1996

"Oh is that how you do it? Backwards." -- Chain Reaction, 1996

"Yes, yes, and proud we are of all of them." -- The Big Lebowski, 1998

"You don't think I'm smart enough to work in your fucking library?" -- Party Girl, 1995

Oh, please!

Don't even front! You hardly even noticed that I hadn't posted in a while. Most of you are just curious about my next mix and when I'm going to put more music in my top secret download spot just for you.
Well, for your information, I do have a lot of music to (slowly) post to my top secret download spot. You guys have been burning through my monthly allotment of GBs. And the next mix is (even more slowly) coming together. It starts off with a remix of that Lady Sovereign track. You know, the one at the beginning of your favorite show, Girls Behaving Badly, and features the always amusing antics of Missy Elliot.
But, come on! Give a brother a breather! I've been OCCUPIED! There is a life away from the keyboard.
This past weekend was Risa and Keith's wedding. In case you haven't been keeping up, I officiated the ceremony. The feeling of the entire thing was amazing, but my performance, I must say, could have been better. The ceremony, when I practiced it at home, took around 15 minutes. On the actual day, I think I burned through it in around 7 minutes. Score one for brevity!
Aside from that, the venue was great. The food was amazing--Kobe beef, pistachio encrusted ling-cod, bacon wrapped steak--I think there were at least ten entrees from which to choose. And Risa looked absolutely STUNNING!!! I'm sure I'll have pictures soon enough.
I can't believe that I've known Risa for 12 years. I can't even begin to tell you the sets of circumstances that led her to meet Keith (Montana, Poland, New York, Denver), or how a guy from Denton, TX who went to school at Texas A&M met a teacher at a clown party. Hell, I can barely even relate the story of how I chose to move to Montana after growing up in Fort Worth, TX only to decide that Seattle was the place I wanted to live.
So, I married them. They are now Mr. and Mrs. Keith Harris as result of my ordination.
I didn't allow Phil to come to the ceremony. I know, it was completely silly, but I just didn't want him there for that. Our hotel was right across the street and I ran across to get him before dinner was served. He was still privy to the open bar, so I'm sure that suited him well, if not better.
When I booked the hotel room, I was a poor bachelor. What care I, I reasoned, if I should share a bathroom--there is no need for privacy! Then, I went and found myself a dude and, I suddenly saw the need of a private bath. The front desk replied to my urgent request with a disheartening no, but after I arrived, the adorable front desk clerk informed me that he might, indeed, have a deluxe room.
I was so taken with the room's design that I forgot to tip him for his trouble. (Read: I was so taken aback with the cost of having one's own restroom that I deemed tipping an out-of-the-question expense.) The upgrade, however, was worth it.
Here's Phil's camera phone's picture of it.

In case you can't tell, that's the shower head behind a pane of glass with the head of the bed located directly on the other side. Um, it was kinda hot. Ok, it was totally hot.

Sunday we saw Ghost Rider (avoid at all costs, read Phil's review here). Then I went home and crashed. When I awoke, I hauled ass to the hill to meet up with Bill. We went to the Re-Bar and shook our asses. It was really, really nice. I haven't danced in a really long time, and I got to see a bunch of the old crew. The music isn't exactly the sound I'm into right now, but it worked.

Monday I had brunch with the ever-effervescent Janice. And, Christ Almighty, you can get off my back now. I might update more frequently; I might be taking some much deserved time off.

How have you been? What have you been up to?

Titters

Yes, I was made uncomfortable by a certain candy bar's Super Bowl ad. Trust me, I get the whole argument that advertisers can pander to whichever retarded demographic they're trying to nail. Freedom of speech or some shit.

I ask you, though. If the commercial had depicted two secular humanists who accidentally pray then do something like pee on a Bible to counteract said prayer, wouldn't the Bible beaters be up in arms?

If the commercial had been two white guys who accidentally smoke crack who then have to do something white to counteract their black behavior like play hockey, wouldn't the black community be up in arms?

Yes, my examples are far fetched and concede to ludicrous stereotypes but so was that commercial.

What angered me even more was their response to me:

Feedback from our target consumers has been positive. In
addition, many media and website commentators of this year's Super Bowl
commercial line-up ranked the commercial among this year's top ten best. USA
Today ranked it #9 of its top ten pick.We know that humor is highly subjective
and understand that some people may have found the ad offensive. Clearly
that was not our intent. Consequently, we do not plan to continue to air
the ad on television or on our TITTERS Brand website.

I hate that there is NO apology in their response. Their response is like, "Oh, you didn't find it funny? Then you're not our target demographic. Other people, people who are smarter than you and who are not as easily offended as you found it very amusing." Its just smacks of condescension.

They knew what they were getting into long before it was aired--and they banked on the backlash, too. That's why I haven't come right out and named them because the last thing they need is more free publicity.

Now, man

Phil, Bill, Andrew, and I hit up the Nauman opening at the Henry on Friday. The collection is on loan from Christie's and its looks great. Just the fact that it is neon makes it seem more relevant--and playful. Phil and I arrived a little on the late side (thanks, #48 bus!) but we still hand enough time to power through the exhibit.
Thoughts:
Neon is totally cool.
Alternately blinking, neon flacid/erect penises are totally awesome.
Free beer and wine? Art is, like, rad.
Free food? Aww, man, we arrived too late to partake.
The world's prettiest man still works at the Peter Miller bookstore (which I always want to call the Henry Miller bookstore).
Final analysis: Besides the four of us, not nearly as many hot guys as the Maya Lin opening (I think that show had more architecture student crossover). Also, will need to return at a later date to enjoy the show.

If its a fight they want

Blech. Forget about posterity and any legacy of fighting the good fight--how does this Initiative 957 thing affect me? That's a great question. I can't help but feel the weight of irony slowly crushing me. First of all, this is the type of retaliatory legislation that I love. It satisfies my all of my passive aggresive urges. Basically, I-957 would only grant marriage to couples who want to and eventually do have have children. Marriages that did not produce offspring would dissolve.

I know, it sounds completely ludicrous (and it is), but I-957 was created in response to the state Supreme Court ruling last July (around the time of my birthday).

In a 5-4 ruling, the court decided that gay unions do not constitute a marriage because they are not for the purpose of procreation. If I recall correctly, that was only one point of three major points for the decision. I digress. Because of that ruling, I decided to become ordained. If myself and other gays were denied the right to marry, I reasoned, I should at least have the legal right to marry two straight people. Silly, I realize, but part of me wanted to illustrate how broad religion is and how its intersection with law is close to arbitrary--how this is really a matter of people with a specific belief system oppressing a minority group. Y'know, I wanted to make it about me.

RisaandKeith and I had joked around with me officiating their ceremony, and then one day, I was able to. I had to acquiesce. I mean, it would be my first wedding. So, in less than two weeks, I'll be asking Risa if she accepts Keith as her husband and Keith if he accepts Risa as his wife.

I've been mulling over everything that I'll be saying. The welcome will be lighter fare. The ceremony will be much more serious with a few places for smiles. I'll try my best to not cry. Then a toast which will have some of the best material that I've been pulling from the other parts because I've been afraid of being too offensive. And, finally, I'll sing "Cheek to Cheek" for their first dance.

Then I can relax. Got a hot guy to dance with (who will, under no circumstances, be around for the ceremony). Got a nice hotel room. Got a smile just thinking about it.

The following Monday, I'll be singing with the chorus on the steps of the state capital to pressure the legislature to follow the justices' recommendation of taking the fight to people.

Then I'll be asking everyone I know to sign the initiative. I'll tell them how completely ridiculous the judges ruling was and how equally ridiculous this initiative is, but how it points out the flawed logic of a disingenuous (and election season jaded, I might add) court.

224,000 signatures are needed by July 6, 2007--my birthday.

See? It is all about me, and I'm ready to fight.

Who knows me best?

Lifted from the lovely Janice and the wonderful Mike over at Copacetic.


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Less productive than ever

I bitch about work a lot. Well, mainly the hours that I work, but for all that bitching, my job is actually pretty decent.

I listen to Day to Day. I listen to All Things Considered. I've got to hear Lakshmi Singh at least once a day. If I'm so inclined, I'll make room for Diane Rehm. Sometimes I'll listen to This American Life. I do the crossword. I listen to and download music. I bring my Netflix movies with me and play them on my Mac. Now, to detract from working even more, Netflix is streaming their movies for PC users. So I have an entire library of movies from which to choose. I recently watched The Hours (holy crap, that movie sucked!) and Gay Sex in the 70's (holy crap, that movie sucked!). Plus, there's this site which has allowed me to catch the ever-dreamy John Barrowman in the spin-off series to Dr. Who (think Men In Black meets the X-Files). But I still do my work. I still meet my deadlines--and our "on-time" report has increased since my promotion. So I'm allowed these little perks, right?

Last Friday was fiesta Friday. I made some pretty killer fajitas (marinate chicken in canola oil, orange juice, lime juice, cilantro, garlic, jalepeno and serrano for at least 8 hours before cooking). We have a skillet here and I reheated the chicken/onion/peppers on it. They sizzled in a corner of the lab while we poured margaritas. You heard right, margaritas. After the meal, my four co-workers and I took shots of Hornito's and then took turns taking siestas.

Even on non-fiesta nights, most of us take naps.

But, yeah, I complain a lot still (I mean, I only get to see Phil like 2 days a week).

And truthfully, I would probably process many more images if I didn't constantly distract myself with things--things like this blog . . .

But until my schedule allows spontaneity, I will continue to be less than optimally productive.

INLAND EMPIRE

Wednesday night I had the pleasure of viewing David Lynch's newest film, INLAND EMPIRE at the Cinerama. Mr. Lynch was in attendance and fielded questions afterward from effusive fans.

What was my take on the movie?
Well, it should come as no surprise that I enjoyed it thoroughly. I was intimidated by the run-time, but made sure I evacuated my bladder and bowels minutes before the film began. And what it film it is. This is Lynch's first film shot on digital video, and the textures, color and lighting are beautiful. My only issue with the vidoegraphy comes from the handheld bounciness. Other than that, Lynch is able to create images as you know he's always imagined them--blacks so black that you don't realize they're grey until a darker silhouette moves through the frame, highlights so overblown that you can feel your retinas tingle. And his imagery is so stacked and belongs so thoroughly to him--Its hard not to think of Guild Navigators when all you see of an overlit face with mouth ajar is its uvula. Its hard not to think of Angelo Badalamenti spitting out coffee onto a napkin when Laura Dern is vomiting blood onto the Hollywood walk of fame.

I have said before (and I maintain) that spoilers do not really exist. The art of film (and literature) does not come in the story, but in the telling. A film is not ruined merely because you know that the main character is already dead going into the film. A professor of mine and I had a discussion once about Hitchcock. We got onto the topic of Psycho and he talked about Hitchcock's brilliance for forcing the audience to relate to Norman Bates after Janet Leigh is killed off. I said that I, and most like a majority of my peers, could not watch the film that way. Before we even saw the film, we knew that Norman wore his mother's clothes and killed the guests at the inn. Does that make Psycho any less powerful of a film? I truly don't think so.

If I told you that Laura Dern plays a prostitute, a wife, an actress, and an abuse victim, and that all of them might be roles an actress is playing, or all of them may be different aspects of the same person, you don't really have a context to place that information--but that is really all you know. Lynch gives you everything early on. Themes and situations recur with different tones and moods, and before you know it, the end credits are rolling. The film sits on your subconscious like a firecracker snake lit by a madman, and as it expands, it smolders.

On my Lynch-o-meter, I would put it behind Fire Walk With Me, Mulholland Drive, and Eraserhead but in front of Lost Highway, Blue Velvet, and Wild at Heart.

Thoughts in other places

I have a couple posts in the draft stage, but for some reason I can't get around to finishing them. One is about David Lynch's newest film and the other is about my favorite tracks from 2006. Yes, both are long overdue. Then there's a whole 'nother post about my date with that sweet, romantic guy on Friday. I haven't even started that one.

But I wanted to take this time to talk about how blogging has affected my life and how relating stories pulls us closer together in our modern age. To paraphrase my good friend Joseph Campbell, religion is literally a link(ing) to the past. Of course, the way we link to the past is through our stories and our mythologies. I'm not a religious man, but the more I write, the more I relate to and merely relate stories and, as a result, the more pious I become.

Some of my closest friends keep on-line journals. I have met people I otherwise never would have known if it weren't for the stories they told. I will continue to because of their willingness to share their stories.

I don't remember how I was introduced to Aaron. I knew almost instantaneously, however, that he was someone to whom I could relate. He felt the desire to expand the dialectic of the gay experience, and his voice belied a sensitivity that so few people possess. He told me about his softball team and his volleyball team--how he began to fell less isolated through his interaction with other gay men. He told me how he cooked bacon outside to prevent the smell from permeating the house (to which I replied, "Why would anyone want to conceal the smell of bacon?"). Once, he told me about a co-worker of his who hugged him on a regular basis just so she could feel some sort of connection. It made him question the human conditions of solitude and lonelines. I told him one of my favorite quotes--"We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness"--and hoped that those words would provide some solace.

Recently, his boyfriend began telling his story. I know Casey even less than I know Aaron, but if I lived in Minneapolis, I would be their annoying friend. The one who calls everyday. The one who asks if they need anything. The one who tries to distract them. The one who pretends that nothing is awful. Luckily, it seems that they have many people in their support system who can tell them stories and make them feel connected.

That 80's Show

I know you've been all atwitter wondering what gems from the 80's the Men's Chorus have culled for the spring show. Well, you're lucky to know me, because I have the inside scoop.

Here's the only catch, if you read the list of tunes below, you are obligated to attend a performance. Even if you live in Boston (or are on sabbatical in Boston). You are even more obligated if you live in the greater Seattle area. Are we clear? Good.

So here's the line up:

Opening medley - Mr. Robato/I'm So Excited/Celebration/I'm Coming Out/Let's Hear It for the Boy/Ready for the 80's

The gym medley - Physical/Muscles/I Know What Boys Like/Don't You Want Me/Another One Bites the Dust

Gentlemen callers medley - Who Can It Be Now/Smooth Operator/You Should Hear How She Talk About You/Call Me

Sweet Dreams

Cars medley - Drive/Cars/Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car/Freeway of Love/Pink Cadillac

True Colors (a capella)

Science medley - Weird Science/She Blinded Me with Science

Rock Me, Amadeus

Video medley - Mickey/Maniac/Whip It/Heaven Is a Place on Earth/Addicted to Love/Thriller

Movie medley - Xanadu/Flashdance/We Don't Need Another Hero/It Might Be You/Let the River Run/Up Where We Belong/Wind Beneath My Wings/Arthur's Theme/Making Love/Fame/Ghostbusters

Girls medley - Material Girl/Uptown Girl/Rich Girl/Rosanna/Billie Jean/Bette Davis Eyes/To All the Girls I've Loved Before/Venus/Simply Irresistible/Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Anthem (from Chess)

Closing medley - Shout/Karma Chameleon/Walk Like an Egyptian/I Wanna Dance with Somebody/Hungry Like the Wolf/Never Gonna Give You Up/Ready for the 80's (reprise)

(Encore)

It's Raining Men

Holy. Crap. That's a lotta music! I hope I learn it all--well, if all else fails, I'll just sing the melody, cuz lord knows I know that!

Mock me with praise

So, you know what my favorite musical is.
Next in line (and not too-distant a cousin musically and lyrically) is Sondheim's Company.
I was just telling Risa and Keith about it this weekend at dinner. It introduced a little-homo Jeremy to an alcohol-drenched Elaine Stritch. Even as a youth I connected on some level with her version of "Ladies Who Lunch." (Little did I know that it was a staple for drag queens the world over.)
Anyway, the newest version of Company on Broadway has been getting lots of hype. Its directed by the same guy who recently brought back Sondheim's "Sweeney Todd." Yeah, you heard about it, all the actors double as musicians. So they're all on-stage all the time and people like Patti LuPone have the chance to wow you even more by displaying their prowess on an instrument.
So that's the same set up for the new version of Company. Some people like it. Others, not so much.
The cast album doesn't come out until March 6th, but some pirate-y type person has taken it upon themselves to upload video clips of the newest production to YouTube.
Below is the show's centerpiece--"Being Alive." In bad productions of Company, Bobby is merely the hub around which the cast of zany Gothamites rotate. In a good production of Company (and this to me, looks like a good production), Bobby's inability to break free from his bachelorhood is the reason the rest of the cast appears so zany. So, I guess what I'm saying is, Bobby is the lens through which the rest of the cast is viewed--so by the time we get to "Being Alive," it either resonates because Bobby was portrayed well, or just falls flat, because, who really cares about this 35 year-old bachelor who can't commit.

Anyway, that's just my take on the whole thing.

So, here is the amazing Raul Esparza taking a huge bite of the number. Enjoy!

I know, I know

Hey, happy new year and stuff!
I know, its been forever. I apologize if I worried you, but fer real, get a grip, I've got to have a life, too. The past two weeks, or so, were my downtime. My return to me time.
Its like Geoffrey Jellineck would say, "I'm not pushing you away. I'm pulling me toward myself."
So, I deleted all your emails (sorry). Didn't return your phone calls (my bad). And haven't posted in a coon's age (is "coon's age" racist?).
My parents didn't even hear from me until Saturday, if that makes you feel any better--my own parents, I tells ya!

So today marks my return to proper society. No more extended stays in bed. No more ordering pizza. No more putting things off because I can.

I've got choir practice tonight. I know, I thought it was over, too. I did, however, promise them a year of my life. Rehearsal tonight is for the spring show which is "That 80's Show." I'm not too sure on the song line-up but I know we're doing a medley of "She Blinded Me with Science" and "Weird Science." Hopefully Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" will surface. I just learned over the weekend that she's Welsh (thanks, VH1). So it kind of killed my personal fantasy of Kim Carnes and her in some biker bar in Arizona doing whiskey shots and saying stuff like, "Guuurrrrl" and, "He done you wrong!" They would be wearing leather chaps, natch.

Anyway, the advent of choir practice marks a return to world. Happy new year! Here's how mine looks thus far:

"Old Joy" is in town until next Thursday. I've been excited for this film for quite some time. I hope to make it up to NWFF before the run ends. They also have a short run (1/12 - 1/18) of "51 Birch Street" which I would like to see, but common sense tells me I'll be luck to catch just one of these gems.

Next Wednesday is, of course, David Lynch at the Cinerama. Only one thing will keep me from this--death.

Friday the 19th is the opening party for Make Your Own Life at the Henry. Phil and I are going to hit it up after a lovely dinner overlooking Elliot Bay at Anthony's Home Port.

Oh, speaking of good dinners, Risa, Keith and I went to Peso's this past Saturday (after Risa and I saw Dreamgirls). I had a killer fried stuffed chicken breast. It was stuffed finely diced portabellos, tomatillos, onions and sage. It was a little dry, but the whole thing was served on a pillow of garlic mashed potatoes and drenched in a an amazing jalepeno, roasted red pepper cream gravy. And we were at Peso's. And it was a game day. And there were shiny-shirt guys. And I didn't even care.

Oh so speaking of Risa and Keith--their day is nigh. February 17th they'll tie the knot. I've been working on what exactly I'll say (if you've been keeping up, I'm officiating the ceremony). So that, coupled with Matt's birthday will be my February.

March will be Tennille's birthday, plus a weekend long retreat with the chorus. This could actually be my breaking point with the organization, but we'll see.

April is Phil's birthday, and that's it.

May is home to Texas for an extended stretch. The old man will turn 70. I can't believe it. My parents are still the same as when I was in high school in my mind. In reality, they are getting old.

So that's the way the year is shaping up.

My only resolution for this year is to dance more. I used to go out dancing at least once a week. Now, its once in a blue moon (which is June 1st if you're keeping track).

I hope to add some much needed structure to the blog. Like Friday posts will be pop culture/out-on-the town. Monday posts will be a glimpse at my fractured psyche, and Wednesdays I'll post about other bloggers' posts or something.
Knowing me, this idea will be chucked.

Ok, so, that's it. Its good to be back. I missed you, too. I promise I won't be so distant.