What in the…?

(Click on the image to enlarge.)


Amazon needs to seriously consider, firing the person who wrote the recommendation code.

Drama in Clubland

Dear evilBuddha,

We have received countless e-mails about Roxy closing it's doors at 4am this past Saturday, October 29. We are as upset as many of your were.

Roxy was closed down by the police dept. on FRIDAY, Oct. 28th at 10pm.

As it happened with Park and Lotus, the Police dept. had been sending undercover underage people to buy drinks. Most of the time they did not succeed but a few times they did.

The "Nuisance and Abatement" law gives them jurisdiction that enables them to close you down at any moment if you have 2 or more of these violations.

Roxy was able to get a Supreme Court Judge on Saturday, October 29th to counter that action by the police and allow us to open Saturday night, a miracle in itself. We did not know until late afternoon that we would even be open for the night.

We were told that we could not allow anyone under 21, or anyone without a valid government issued ID to enter the club, and that door would have to be closed at 4am. Shortly after, we sent you all an e-mail stating that we were open and that it was 21 and older.

Much later into the night, we were told that "door closed" meant lights on and EVERYBODY out of the building. Unfortunately it was way too late to do anything about it.

This whole situation forced us to let 2000 people out the door at the same time, which we considered unsafe and totally illogical. Coat check was overloaded with patrons trying to get their coats at the same time and, by having everybody leave the building at the same time, we caused unnecessary noise and inconvenience to our neighbors and patrons.

We are told that The Police Department wants all clubs in the area to be 21 and over and to be closed at 4am.

We look forward to meeting this week with the police and our attorneys and hopefully find a common ground that will be good for all.

Again, we're terribly sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you.
We have received a lot of emails asking why this happened, so there it is.
We moved Heaven and Earth to get open and have a great party.
It was indeed a great party! Unfortunately, not everything turned out the way we planned.

We will keep you informed as to how things progress.
Your support is greatly appreciated.


Sincerely,

John Blair.

Halloween Weekend

Friday was a hectic day. I had a Halloween house party to attend that night and I was heading out for Danny's Halloween Party at Spirit, afterwards. Work threatened to run well into the evening, and I found myself explaining to my manager, why I wanted out early. The truth that I wanted to rush home to sneak in a disco nap before all of the festivities, didn't seem like an adequate enough explanation. I left it at the fact that I had parties to attend. Fortunately, I was able to "hand off" the work to co-worker E and get home for at least a little rest, if you could call it that. I was wide awake after, at best, a half hour of sleep. I'd heard the doorbell through the fog of dreams and that was the end of that. It was useless trying to fall asleep again. I got up, got ready, and headed out.

The house party was tame. It was a nice enough time with friends I haven't seen in a while. However, Lack of sleep left me surly, bitchy according to some of the party attendees. I did my best to remedy it, but still, I wasn't suffering fools easily that evening.

As soon as people started to leave, everyone started to leave. After dropping off one friend and the BF at home, we had to stop at Friend Frank's, he was at the party as well and he was heading to Spirit with me. As a matter of course, it wouldn't be a night out with him if I didn't have to deal with his unpreparedness. He had to print his ticket on his inexorably slow ass PC. Frustrating. After wasting yet another half hour at Frank's, we were finally on our way by 1:30AM.

Arriving at Spirit at 2:00AM, the place was a zoo, totally unexpected. Usually well organized, the streets were filled with people milling around in costume, trying to figure out a way into the club. Fortunately, I ran into some people I knew from the Danny Tenaglia message board and cut the line with them. Usually, I'm loathe to do this but that helped us avoid at least an hour's wait. Thank goodness.

Fools were everywhere. On the coat check line, we suffered the prattling of one woman, who went on incessantly about how see was sponsoring someone for confirmation the next day and she had to be home by 12. This went on for 10 minutes, whereupon she repeated herself 5 times at least. I felt my skull would crack open and my brain would spill out on to the floor. Annoying. She was leaving. I was thankful.

Inside, the club was abound with energy. It was very chaotic, especially with all the costumed folk. I felt a general disconnect with it. Friend Frank continued to be irritating. He'd worn a little devil/angel costume with black wings and he got upset every time someone walked past, pushing against his wings. What did he expect? He added another 6-8 inches to his back, of course, people were going to brush up against him. Whatever, I wasn't suffering his antics well. A word to the wise, don't wear a costume to a club if you intend on keeping it. Make it disposable and expendable. Friend Frank went on and on last year about horns he was wearing and this year, it was these DAMN wings. I was fast being spun into a bad head.

The music was spot on for Danny. He was rocking. But I was completely in the wrong head. Not into the music, not into dancing. Not good. I tried hard to change my mindset but nothing was falling into place. I found I wanted to be there for all the wrong reasons and it was setting me up for major disappointments.

Amateurs
It's surprising the amount of people that pop out of the woodwork for holiday weekends. Most shouldn't consider coming out, as they embarrass the hell out of themselves, inevitably threatening to ruin the fun for everyone else.
I was witness to two "men" just heaving their guts up: sounds and visuals, SO not cute. I'd seen another hunched over a garbage can. If you can't handle whatever you're on, then you have no business doing it in public and the same goes if you can't do it in moderation. Fun is fun, but throwing your guts up, is a little too much fun.

By 9:30AM, I'd had enough. I was tired and my body ached and not in a good way. Lack of sleep and overall negativity was poisoning my body and I needed/wanted to go home.

Sigh. Frank had mentioned that we're getting too old for this. Perhaps he's right. Yeah, my p*ssy hurts. I'll give it a rest and see how I feel down the line.

Horoscope for Leo: Sunday, October 30, 2005

Although your feelings are running deep these days, the conflicts that you feel are eased now as Mercury the Communicator enters your 5th House of Fun and Games. You are more inclined today to be optimistic, even if life has been rather serious. Don't fight against this upward swing. Enjoy yourself while you can.


Amen.

More Game Updates

While a 3rd world country and my wise and righteous, yet wizened ancestors have objected, the magical process of taking plastic (see credit cards) and converting it into robots and video games, continues. It's become more of a syphon but luckily, I think the flow will be stemmed as some of the new games rate high on the suck scale and there just aren't any other robots to buy.

Speaking of suck, this…



Picked it up, this past weekend merely because of the license it's based upon, Mobile Suit Gundam Seed. Last night, I got around to reading a review, a measly 2.5 out of 10, 2.5!!!! The curse of license-based games. Admittedly, the allure of piloting/controlling (rather, according to the review, a distinct lack of controlling) the Freedom Gundam is tempting to me, but not at full price. It's still unopened, so I can return/exchange it. I can come back around to MSGS-NET, in the discount bin.

Continuing…

Added to the pile today…



I'll hold off on any additional game purchases and in that, game posts, only if you want to hear about it or it's so awe-inspiring, I have to share.

For a change of pace, I'll be throwing in some halloween party, dance posts in the upcoming weekend. Yippee. My social calendar is filling up.

Why so angry?

She shoved her way next to me on the train. Her pocketbook now occupied the same space as my ribs as she flipped open her paper, reading.

"You've got to be joking," I said aloud to her. Her response was inaudible through my earphones and by the time I'd gotten one out, she'd shut her pie hole.

"Sorry, you had to shove your way into here," I said. She ignored me. I fumed, not wanting to choke her.

The next stop, I got off the train angry, too angry, I thought quizzically. Why was I so angry? While I'm still perturbed by the inconsiderate, little bitch, I'm thankful that this incident has opened my eyes to my internalized rage. It doesn't manifest itself in outright acts. It makes me short-tempered and irritable, taking me away from enjoyment of things that make me happy.

During the rest of my commute, I contemplated my anger in between bouts of Burnout Legends. I've rationalized that it's very possible that my grief has mutated OR because in the past week or so, I've curtailed my consumption of carbohydrates. Both sound very reasonable and it could very well be a combination of both but I'm leaning towards the modified carb intake. Ask the BF, I am absolutely and unbearably mean when I haven't properly eaten. My body is adjusting and none to happily it seems. Sigh. The price I (and others) pay as I try and flatten my belly.

I should have handled the train situation more diplomatically. Still, she was an inconsiderate, little bitch.

I'll have to count to three, (okay, maybe ten. Twenty?) to mull and assess my mental state before reacting.

Thank you all for bearing with me. Except for that inconsiderate, little bitch.

Gossip.

A story for my brother and maybe my other brother's fiance because they both might be idiots.

One day the great Philosopher came upon an acquaintance, who said excitedly, " Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?"

"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before telling me anything I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test." "Triple filter?" questioned the young man.

That's right," Socrates continued, "Before you talk to me about my student, it might be a good idea to take a moment and filter what you're going to say."

The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?" "No," the man said, "actually I just heard about it and ...''

"Ah right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not - Now let's try the second filter, the 2nd filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"

"No, on the contrary..."

"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him, but you're not certain it's true. You may still pass the test though, because there's one filter left: the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"

"No, not really."

"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither true nor good nor even useful, why tell it to me at all?"



Small minds talk about people, mediocre minds talk about things and great minds talk about ideas. Try and be a great mind in everything you do.

Quiet Time.

I wish I could report that I had a raucous and crazy weekend, alas, no. That would be a lie. Last week was a full week of work and coming into the weekend, I was looking forward to some quiet time. To start, the BF had headed out to meet some friends for long overdue drinks on Friday night, leaving me to my own devices. I picked up some take out and curled up at my computer to play Myst V: End of Ages. After some missteps on the G5 (see imexplicable crashes), I installed it on to the PC, playable and stable albeit slower video than the G5. I'd played it throughout the weekend. Myst V is a gorgeous game but it has turned me into a smoldering pile of frustration. Puzzles in logic (at least I hope they all are) that stretch the mind, but take time and patience to decipher. I'll hit my stride soon.

The BF floated in late, nicely soused. I put him to bed and resumed my gameplay for a short time longer before retiring to bed myself.

Saturday was a rainy, miserable day, fine for doing nothing and playing more games.

I had nothing on the agenda in terms of clubbing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Madonna was in town at the Roxy. I'm shocked that she did show. I would have been interested, but not enough to run out and deal with a crowd of screaming homos. Nosireebob. Not to mention, I dislike the Roxy. Nonetheless, Madonna was there and people enjoyed her appearance, so I hear.

So, with the Roxy far from my mind, the BF and I had dinner with friends in Brooklyn at Rice. Mmmm, thai food, nothing better than spicy food on a cold, dreary night. This was followed by coffee and pastries at Mona Lisa Bakery. Mmmm, mmmm good once again. Nothing beats Italian desserts in Brooklyn.

Sunday, the BF and I headed to his sister's for his niece's 5th birthday party. We had to stop at TRU to pick up gifts, which invariably ended up being gifts for me. As we walked across the lot, we ran into an old bowling partner. J was running into buy video games for his kids. TRU was having a sale, buy 2, get one free. How could I resist?



Of course, I needed these like I need a hole in my head.

Spent plenty of quality time with the BF. He left this morning for SF on a two day business trip. Again, I'm left to my own devices. What to do? What to do?

Crash Commuting.

I look up every minute or so, to make sure I haven't missed my stop. No? Good. Back to my PSP and Burnout Legends.



Initially, I resisted getting the game, as I always do. Reasoning, It's essentially a pared down, re-hash of the console version of Burnout 3 Takedown. I'd played, at best, 20% of the Xbox game before shelving it. I'd probably end up shelving BL PSP too, I figured. Besides, wouldn't I rather pick up Burnout Revenge Xbox? Ah… why bother? 20%… what a waste.

After reading some impressions and my co-worker getting it, I caved and bought it. Still, I resisted playing. I had plenty of other things I wanted to do on the commute in/out: reading, some audiobooks I could get through, write some blog entries. They're more productive than playing video games.

Yet, here I find myself slamming gleefully, into computer controlled opponents. Can't miss my stop? Am I there yet? No? Good. Time for one more lap. Eat concrete you cocky bastard!!!! Damn. Takedown Avenged. Ouch.

It's good fun. My hands have adapted to playing again.

Past two days, I've occupied my train ride doing the Crashbreakers on BL II. Basically, you're given a short run to pick up some coin/boost and then make as big a boom as possible/ incurring as much financial/collateral damage as possible in your final crash. How much damage you do is rated by a medal and the damage cost is added to your pool. Currently at 18% completion of the game. Fun. Fun. Fun. Must remember NEVER do this with AutoLove.

One drawback, during off times, I find myself humming the Green Day-esque music tracks from BL II, which are so not like me. Ew. Small price to pay. BL II is highly recommended. I'll have to hang with B&B and race him.


Co-worker has abandoned Burnout Legends PSP for X-Men Legends II PSP, which I 'd also picked up. However, I swore I wouldn't play XL II, PSP or Xbox, until I've played through X-Men Legends on the Xbox. Progress report: I'm preparing to enter the Astral Plane with my team to free Professor X from the Shadow King. Good stuff.

Counterbalance.

My last post was interpreted by one reader as being angry. I was going for "fed up" and sardonic. I can see how I've been misread. It's all really fuzzy.

In lieu of this fact, here's a light-hearted post. Hopefully, I can purge some of my "negativity" by focusing on something besides the apes fellow citizens I live amongst.

Yesterday was new release Tuesday and here are some of my recent DVD acquisitions.

DVDs From Best Buy:

Mad Hot Ballroom


Samurai 7 V.2 Escape from the Merchants - Limited Edition Boxed Set

Note: There is a price disparity on BB's website to what I'd paid yesterday. For those interested, you can definitely do better. I did.

As anime is reaching a broader audience and more people are seeking the DVDs, retail establishments, like Best Buy, have taken notice and raised their prices. Forcing me to seek them online at more reasonable prices. I'm surprised to admit that I've found Amazon to be much better in cost. However, I've also noticed fluctuations in price there as well. In the case of Fafner 2, I'd bought it at $23, it now lists at $27.
Still, if you opt for the Free Super Saving Shipping, you come out cheaper than buying it locally. It does take some time and does test my patience. Instant gratification is expensive.

The Amazon Acquisitions

Gantz Vol. 8 Deathwatch




Fafner 2 Ultimate Sacrifice




Samurai Champloo 5



On order with Amazon:

Batman Begins



Note: I'd originally picked this up at Best Buy, only to find it cheaper on Amazon by $7. That is a huge difference. So, co-worker couldn't wait, so I sold my copy to him and I'm patiently waiting for mine to arrive.

Planetes Vol. 3




This past weekend, I finally got around to watching:

Full Metal Alchemist Vol. 5 - Cost of Living



Brilliant. Fun, dark and deep.

I've become THAT New Yorker.

You know the one. Frustrated with being put upon by people that are completely in their own world, smashing themselves, extremities and accouterments against me, I vocalize my discontent. "EXCUSE YOU!" I bark to the uncivilized barbarians. I've become ever prepared to sling a sarcastic and dripping "You're welcome," to any ingrate breezing through a door I've held open for them with nary an acknowledgment, as if I'M obligated to do so. No, this has never been my job asswipe. It takes all my will, not to allow the door to swing back with a little more push.



Moreover, I'm THAT New York commuter, too. I will yell, "STEP INTO THE TRAIN" to the morons who step on, only to remain in the doorway while people behind, stand looking incredulously, trying to get on. Elbows out when I have to step off of a subway and some yahoo has decided she, more times than not, it's a woman, that she needs to get on the train as I'm getting off, self-important bitch!

I'd fall over and die if I heard the words "Excuse me" at all on the subway, as most of the people, shoving and pushing are immigrants that haven't the slightest grasp of the English language. I'm ever so tempted to flash a badge, screaming "I.N.S.", and see how well they grasp that. However, I'm afraid that I'd be arrested since it'd be the modern version of screaming "Fire!" in a crowded room.

"Excuse You!" is ever at the ready when some spineless nitwit, wants to lean up against a pole which my hand has already been fastened to. My knuckles are out to firmly nudge into their ribs, saying "I'm here stupid."

Still, I would never think myself above minding my own manners. I will always say "Excuse me" to get by and say "I'm sorry" if I've affronted anyone. Like the lady on the 4 train, whom I accidentally wrapped my arm around her waist whilst maneuvering. Sorry. Meant nothing by it.

I'll still hold the door for people, as much as it may pain me when it's unrecognized. Even if the words "Excuse me" don't exist in your vocabulary, a smile would do. That's easy, isn't it?

But seriously, if you are an illegal alien and I'm not saying anyone is, nothing helps you blend in to a foreign environment better, than learning the local lingo. "Excuse me" and "I'm sorry" should be the first phrases you learn.
*end rant*

Well-Fatigued.

I wish I could sleep today away, but I'm at work. Yawning. Fighting to keep my brain oxygenated enough to earn my keep. My focus is next to nil and it's taking a fair amount of it to type.

I'm tired. Although it's a good kind of tired.

Yesterday, I hit Crobar for Victor Calderone's Evolve. It was an amazing party, exactly what I'd needed. Friend Frank, who'd fallen off the radar for a while, returned in full force to accompany me, albeit not without his usual shenanigans. (see. overslept) I was picking him up at 5AM but we didn't get motoring till 5:30AM.

The city was quiet, parking a breeze, a minor wait at the door and we were in.

Crobar was packed when I arrived, and stayed that way for a long time. Previous Evolve parties, the club had closed for a short time, ejecting the previous "night's" patrons and to clean up and This time, they didn't close. You could tell by the amount of garbage, ie. cans, water bottles, gum wrappers, napkins on the floor. The energy level was already at a high level and VC had to maintain it. I'm guessing that with a lead-in DJ like Carl Cox, who himself is a headliner, VC had a pretty intense set to follow-up and take over from.

VC's sound was noticeably different from previous parties. He was spinning a much darker edge and playing less vocals, recognizable songs. He was programming a lot more it seemed, layering, sampling, and making for a beat heavy, and what felt like a true afterhour experience. Some noteable tracks, well, the only ones I can readily recall:
The Baguio Track - Luzon. He teased this for a long time, always a good hear.
8 Letters - One of my favorite tracks of the Year
That Look - Delacy. Absolutely a KILLER mix VC played. Definitely had my fist pumping in the air on this one. KILLER.

If anything else comes up, I'll update later.

Back to the crowd. When we'd arrived, I noticed a few of the "boys" were arriving at the same time. Inside, the crowd was very, very straight, the usual for Crobar on Saturdays. As the morning progressed, there was a definite shift from a straight crowd to a gay crowd. This time around, I saw many more familiar faces than the previous times out. The crowd didn't thin out till, I estimate, 10AM.

By 12:00PM, I'd had enough. My legs were spent and I was exhausted. A good exhausted.

Re-Emergence

The weather has done nothing to improve my mood. Dreary rain has been continuously falling since my return to New York. Nay, it's been coming down even before I'd left. I'm waterlogged, literally, spiritually and emotionally. Like a sponge, I can't hold anymore and it's time to wring it all out.

My playful side is looking for an avenue to stretch it's legs, shake a little booty. My mischevious side is knocking around too, have to keep it in check (or not). evil grin. I'm tired of being bogged down by the mire of sadness. By no means am I through mourning, but I'm looking for some light.

I'll be blowing off some steam, relieving stress, hitting Crobar this Sunday for Victor Calderone's Evolve party. It's been a while since I've heard Victor. Robocub checked him out for New York Pride in June and didn't have great things to say. Not sure what to expect, but I'm hoping for some good music to move to. Fingers crossed.

Further down the line, Friday, October 28th, Danny Tenaglia is playing Spirit for Halloween. Danny's Halloween parties have been notable and fun. If I'm not mistaken, I haven't missed one in six years, dating back to Vinyl/Arc. Wow. Maybe I'll dress up, more than likely, not.

These parties may not shake my funk but it'll give me something new to smile about.

PS: Thank you to everyone that has commented and emailed with their condolence wishes. It has meant a lot to me. And mostly, thanks for reading. Sharing my experiences has been helpful in dealing.

Brick

I love "Calvin and Hobbes." It so captures a child's imagination. Not only was it loaded with fantastic insights, it was well drawn and damn funny. It was heartbreaking when Bill Watterson retired the strip in 1995. All I was left with was syndicated repeats in the daily comics, and dog-earred and tattered copies of well-read "C and H" collections like "Something under the bed is drooling." and "Weirdos from another planet."

No longer. They've finally made a complete anthology collection and it is gorgeous. And it's fucking heavy!!! I picked it up at B&N and carrying it back to the office, I nearly ripped my arms out of their sockets. Now, it's sitting next to my desk and I'm loathe to think how I'm getting it home, maybe one day when I drive in.

Must resist…

But I have to admit, I really, really liked watching last week's episode of "Lost" on iTunes 6.0.

Saying Good-bye (Part 2 of 2)

Flurry (Continued)
Saturday, Oct. 8, 4:00PM
The flight was fast, and the landing, very bumpy. The plane rose and fell as it plunged into the cloud layer. I didn't think my motion sickness pills would compensate and they nearly did not. I was fairly loopy by the end. Once on the ground, we bolted from the plane. No baggage claim for us. We ran out to the curbside. The BF was on the cellphone with our friends that were picking us up. Moments later, their car emerged. Running into the cold rain, we threw our bags in. A cabbie honked his horn at us. Welcome to back to New York.

We went our separate ways when I was dropped off at home. The BF had to make arrangements for flowers and buy shirts. I had to start getting the apartment together. It was going to be an epicenter of activity as the family would retire for a brief respite here, between sessions at the funeral parlor on Sunday and Monday. The BF had to wrangle food for them/us. It was nightmare of things to arrange, but it had to be done.

By early evening, most of the dust had settled, most odds and ends tied up. I was so tired from all of the running around, I crashed for a few an hour on the couch before the BF returned from yet another run.

The BFs sister called, to ask for some pictures, any pictures of Big A, we might have on the computer. The BF couldn't do it, so JJ and I volunteered. We scanned through the photo library mournfully, stopping on some, sighing. We landed on a picture of Big A and JJ, she cried, woefully. I consoled her. Later, as I posted them up for viewing and downloading, I broke and sobbed to myself.

When we hit the bed, it felt like we'd never left. Sleep was fitful as we knew we would never be ready for what lay ahead.

Grief
Sunday, Oct. 9
I'd awakened to the sound of activity in the kitchen through the closed bedroom door. Friends had already come over to help finish cleaning the apartment and allow us to get dressed. I shaved, showered and dressed, dreading the day before us.

Arriving at the funeral parlor a little before 2, the entire family went in together. We were immediately brought to tears by the flower arrangement: an American flag with the words "A___. THE BEST." It was one of Big A's famous lines, "You're the best."

Saddest and most heartbreaking was the man laid out before us, one who'd been so full of life and verve, a smile for anyone and everyone, was quiet in an unwaking sleep. Some good came from his passing. He was finally at peace, no more pain.

Blur
Sunday, Oct. 9 and Monday, Oct. 10
The two days blended together,people coming in to pay their last respects to Big A as a parade of flowers lined the inside of the room. It was no surprise to hear the words, "He was my best friend, " uttered from so many people, because it was true. As his oldest son put it, "He was the last of the tough guys." Not your atypical Brooklyn italian ruffian, but a defender of the meek, righteous with out being self-righteous. I overheard a story about him in the Korean War. He was an MP, made one because he was from Brooklyn. Men were dying on the line. More were being sent up. He turned them around and sent them back against orders, saving their lives. The pullback order came the next day. Typical Big A. I love him.

In between sessions, the family retreated to my apartment to rest, drink and essentially refuel. I enjoyed it very much, as it was a snapshot of Big A's legacy. His immeditate family, grandchildren, his and their friends, all communing in his honor. The kids were laughing and playing. Largely unaware of his death, but they paid homage to a great man nonetheless.

Good-Bye
Tuesday, Oct. 10
"Goodbye Dad," I whispered to him, touching his shoulder for the last time. At that moment, the finality of his death hit me all at once and I cried all my grief out as the BF held me.

After a funeral mass at the church, we made a long funeral procession that snaked through Brooklyn and ultimately out to Long Island, to his final resting place by his father. His father had been buried alone, Big A didn't want his father to be alone anymore.

An Army Honor Guard played "Taps" and presented Big A's oldest son with a folded American flag. We said our final good-byes and laid roses on his casket. It was hard not to look back, but I couldn't help it. It would be the last time I'd lay eyes on the vessel that held him. Too small for such a big man, too small for such a big heart. In his death, I hope I can still learn from Big A, that I could be like him, loved by so many, missed by so many.

Good-Bye Big A. I miss you. I love you.

Saying Good-bye (Part 1 of 2)

Prologue
Thursday, Oct. 6
He and I ruminated briefly about the day. We held hands, gently squeezing one another, acknowledging the contact, acknowledging the love we felt. Perhaps, I held on too long. I didn't care and he didn't protest. We were both comforted.
He looked sharp. There were four of us in the room, talking around him and at him. He did his best to follow along.
I stepped away, to breathe and reflect. They came along after. Though we were out of earshot, we spoke in hushed tones. Conversations had taken a decidely dour tone in the previous week.
Moments later, a nurse came looking for us. He over-extended himself, focusing through the fog of painkillers and became too excited. The nurse advised we not speak, he needed to rest now.
I sat down next to him, fearful of waking him, fearful of leaving him. I watched as he repeatedly lifted the handkerchief to his nose, only to come an inch short before dropping it back down to his chest.
Ushered to leave, I wanted to voice my objection. Nonetheless, I squelched it, got up and walked out, hoping he'd hold on a few more days so I'd see him again.

Trip
Friday, Oct. 7
We both weren't nearly as excited as we should be for this trip. However, here we were, on a flight to Miami. I still couldn't believe it. The trip was planned prior to the current turn of events. I'd voiced my apprehensions a week and a half ago about going, given his father's condition. The BF said we're going. He was confident his father would be ok, just a little while longer. So we away we went. Four days and three nights, a reprieve from the sadness. It was a torturous flight, JAPs yakking the entire time behind us and an exorbinate amount of time waiting as they tried to extend the jet bridge to the plane but we eventually made it.

We were traveling with our friends, O and M. It was rainy but we walked about. We had cocktails by the hotel pool bar. Conversation was light to heavy as we filled in O and M as to the severity of the situation with the BFs father. I fell into a 2 hour nap in a hammock, the stress washed out of me. I was renewed but the looming spectre remained. We cleaned up and had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, followed by some drinks at Twist. We were back in the hotel by 11:30PM or so, and fast asleep shortly.

All in all, we had a decent day.

Saturday, Oct. 8
Time Unknown
I was startled by the slam of door. I'd taken a moment to gain my bearings and realized the door slam was that of the hotel room. It was pitch dark in the room and I looked right to find the BF was not in bed. I jumped up and ran for the door, poking my head out. "Where the hell are you going?" I boomed, quietly. The BF had reached the interconnecting hall with the elevator bank before I jolted him awake. He looked around in confusion before sheepishly returning to the room. He'd never done this before. Sure, he'd leave the bed at home to lay on the couch, but never left a hotel room. Odd.

7:11AM
The phone rang, the BF's cell on the desk. I jumped up to grab it and hand it to him. It was his brother, calling to say his father had passed away in the morning. We were shocked. He started to call around, speaking to his siblings, notifying his friends. He cried, pained and angst ridden. I held him, tears welling up in my eyes, but I had to be strong for him. Not my turn to cry yet. I called to O and M's room, we needed M to help rearrange our travel plans. We got a flight out at 1:24PM that afternoon. We packed and headed out for breakfast, making the most of our time left in Miami.

Flurry
Approx. 12:40PM
We were late. We'd spent the afternoon too lazily. We walked around Lincoln Road, the BF making many arrangements on the phone, suits needed to be picked up, other people contacted. Thank goodness for our rich network of friends. But alas, we were late to the airport. They wouldn't check our bags. Fortunately, we could carry them on. I thought for sure we'd be held up in security. Luckily we did not. We did have to run from one end of the terminal to the next, to get to our gate, luggage in tow. We breathed easy once we were in our seats, mentally bracing for what was ahead.

With two heavy hearts that should have grounded it, the plane found wing and lifted off, taking us home to bury a father and a friend.

I miss you so much.

Big "A"
1936-2005

When did I go electro house?

Last week, I'd passed on John Acquaviva's Back 2 Basics Electrohouse, purely based on the word "Electrohouse." Saturday, trolling around the Virgin recordstore (again), they happened to be playing the compilation aloud. The chunky electro beats hooked me. Some toe-tapping and body-jigging happened and I had to get a copy. Who knew?



Also picked up,
DJ Yousef and Behrouz
Renaissance Frontiers



Highly recommended. DJ Yousef plays a great ice-breaker on CD1. Some electro beats that'll get you groovin and primed for CD2 with DJ Behrouz, who does not disappoint. His compilations have been aces and I would keep an eye on him and hope to catch him when he plays NY next time.

Today's acquisitions:



Steve Lawler's third opus in the Lights Out series for Global Underground.
Haven't given it a good listen as yet. Ripping to iTunes as we speak, and correcting the damn, hamhanded attempt of entering the track names, someone did on CDDB Gracenote. If you can't do it right, don't do it at all. Well, not really, they get some info right. Means less typing for me. Anyway, I'll update with my impressions when I give it a go. Even if it's good, you couldn't drag me to Spirit, October 21, where Lawler plays again. When a club shuts down at 6:30AM, you can't expect me to be happy and chance that happening again. Nope, uh-uh. Not a chance.

Maybe.



MixMag Live with Max Graham

I've snagged some of Graham's compilations before, with no prior knowledge of what to expect and have been pleasantly surprised each time. Looking forward to seeing what he brings on this one.

Busting my Eagle Cherry

I'd never been to the Eagle, ever, a minor oversight. I'd been down the block @ Crobar more times than I could count, but never ventured that extra one hundred plus feet (past Score *shudder*) to the Eagle.

In some ways, I was a little intimidated by the thought of a "bear" bar. I am the complete opposite of "bear." Hello, hairless Asian here. Think its hot? Write me. :-)

The only things, bear-related I've been to were the Black Party (that doesn't really count, does it?) and the Spike, eons ago. A bunch of us (see Brooklyn crowd) were dragged there by one friend who wanted to try something different from the usual Splash or Spectrums. The Spike had a dress code scrawled in handwritten text (denim or leather, no sneakers) and a "No Cologne" policy. Fortunately, I wasn't wearing anything from Bang Bang (see shiny, stretchy lyrca, club kid wear circa 90s) and while I was freshly bathed, I wasn't doused in floral scents. They let us in. I don't remember much. It was dark, sexual and scary. We left in the next half hour and probably ended up at Spectrums.

Fast forward to yesterday.

Diego was in town and we agreed to meet at the Eagle. Figured it was as good a time as any to pop my Eagle cherry. I'd texted Robocub and he said he'd be there too. When I arrived, I struck by the similarity to the Spike, dark, foreboding, definitely a sexual aura about the place. Definitely taken aback some. Trepidation was high, but in a good way. Thank goodness for Robocub, otherwise, I'd have looked like a complete newbie, not that I didn't. He came down from the rooftop deck to get me with friend G in tow. Isn't he the best? A friendly face always helps me acclimate.

Before heading up, I grabbed a drink from the bar. Still nervous about my environment, I eased up and laughed as two "butch" looking guys, in a fairly nelly fashion (add lisp), ordered mixed drinks and a diet coke. I got a draft Stella and headed up, following Robocub.

Tracked down Diego at the front of the deck, barely recognizing him as he'd grown hair! Still smoking hot though. "It's like I already know you," he exclaimed as we said our first real hellos. Robocub, Diego and I chatted. Robocub excused himself to rejoin his BF and friends. Sadly, not much later, Robocub called to informed me he'd left.

It was way packed on the deck, a nice, burly and handsome crowd. Diego and I talked on, and even had full view of a blowjob in the corner of the deck, but alas, they were not cute. Diego did get his ass grabbed twice. We refreshed our drinks, walking further into the deck and ran into Mike P., out on his own, celebrating his birthday. Everyone wish him a happy one!!! And now, our group was three. We walked downstairs for a bit where Mike introduced us to the DJ Paul Ferrer and Gustavo. Nice peeps. Then we were joined by Meanwhile and we were four for a long time. The conversation rolled, I had a great time.

Alas, it was a "school" night and it wasn't meant to last without serious repercussions the next day. We all parted about 11:30PM. Well, three of us headed out while Diego (Jimmy?) stayed behind. He said out goodbyes, Diego called me a BILF. I swooned. :) I'll call him a DILF. A Daddy I'd Like To… you know. ;)

Mike P. and I walked and bused to the Union Square train station. We talked non-stop. Seems we've got a lot of interests in common: PSP, music, atypical geekiness, etc. I look forward to getting to know him better.

For my first time at the Eagle, I had a blast, made better with some good blogger friends. After a while, I realized, the Eagle is just a bar with burly, good-looking men and some decent tunes. I could get to like it. Wait, I already have. :)

Check them, checking me out.

There've been a few blogger's that have commented on this blog and/or have blogrolled me, some with my knowledge, some without (Thank you, Statcounter for the referring links.)

I've been checking a few of them out in return.

Here are some, in no particular order for your perusal.
ratsoringo
gabsmash
scally lad
chai and sympathy
urinal thoughts
From 34000 feet
ssqd: dog is still watching you

and if you could understand, please translate for me:
gaylab
Nice pics tho.
Ditto.
Realidade em devir

Give a holler if I missed someone (or you!). Don't be shy.

Other blogs I've been reading:
brat boy school
boy's briefs