Friday, March 31, 2006

“I’m not dead yet.”

Really, really busy… in the process, extolling and demonstrating the benefits and wonders of Adobe Indesign to Creatives, one Art Director at a time.

I feel like Prometheus giving fire to man. In thanks, I'm chained to Mt. Caucasus and my ever-regenerating liver is pecked out each day.

Monday, March 27, 2006

After Black - Alegria Extreme 6

New York City has been bristling with an undercurrent of dark, sexual energy for a week leading to Black Party weekend. Men from all around the world, flooded in to partake of Rites XVI at Roseland and it’s associated, fringe events. Nothing like a bunch of gay men on holiday, stirring the pot of trouble. Idle hands ARE the devil’s playground.

I wonder if the Blue Store, Rainbow Station and Rainbows & Triangles have finished restocking on lube yet?

Anyway…

I had no intention of going to the BP and as a result, had purposely avoided any activities prior to it, steering clear of it all together.

The only festivities I was fitting in was…


…Alegria Extreme 6 at Crobar, attended with Robocub, his BF Robopapi and friend Alan.

I was excited… but I’d never been to an Alegria after a BP. I had some concerns.

There isn’t much sense to following a major circuit party with another. Plus it was a Sunday night, a good chance it wouldn’t be well attended as well as the men that went to BP, perhaps following it up with Hammam, may be too exhausted/strung out.

Boy, was I wrong.

The boys really do know how to stretch a party out and like me, many of the native NY boys took Monday off as well. Needless to say, Crobar was hopping at 1:00AM Monday morning and I was loving it.

The energy was palatable, sexually charging the room. It was heady. We jumped right in to the crowded dance floor. The men were particularly friendly. One couple patted my ass and grabbed at my harness, yanking on it, checking it was secure. I introduced myself and learned they were a couple in from Denver. Nice enough people. We danced nearby to them and in a short amount of time, I saw both of them diving down to… um… service someone. There probably was no shortage of on floor shenanigans.

RoboCub, Robopapi and I danced close, making sure not to loose each other in the sea of men. RoboPapi and I grabbed a drink and he commented that it was much more than a sea of men, more like a wall. ‘A seawall?’ I chimed. Had you been there ,you’d have thought it was a more like a breached levee with men spilling out, writhing and gyrating together.

I met their sexy friends from Vancouver, WoofDaddy and Woofboy. Simply woofilicious. Walking sex. They were fun to dance with as were their pack/clan of equally handsome friends.

The music was being served by DJ Abel. It was his blend of progressive, house, tribal tech. Also, this happens to be his birthday weekend.

My musical highlight:
First Time - Offer Nissim featuring Maya
Dibiza - Danny Tenaglia/Chus & Ceballos

THE musical lowlight:
"The Wings" (Dance Remix) — Gustavo Santaolalla
Yes, it’s the dance remix of the theme song from Brokeback Mountain.

Yuck. Unclean. Unclean.


Mike P. predicted this would happen. I’d hoped it wouldn’t but there I was staring at Robocub, both of us incredulous. DJ Dudu Marquez in the Prop Room played it as well along with a chipmunk'd version of Phil Collin's "Easy Lover."

Yuck. Unclean. Unclean. Some things were not meant to be remixed.


Beside THAT musical hiccup, the music was relentless and fun.

By 8:00… my energy waned. No amount of Redbull was going to invigorate and revitalize me. I wasn’t prepared to leave yet. Robocub and RoboPapi left before me. We’d lost Alan early in the morning. He reports, this was his first and last Alegria.

The party was still in full swing. I hung around, bopping my head to the music until I was mentally braced to leave. At 9:00, I stepped out into the blazing Monday morning sun, heading home.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Sneaker Madness



They started gathering yesterday (Mar. 22nd) afternoon. Parking themselves in front of the store with lounge chairs, they, mostly Asian men of ages 18-25, braved the cold. Waiting.

As I walked to the subway, I had to ask one of them what the fuss was about.
"Sneakers are coming out," he replied plainly. I shrugged and walked on.

Two days from now, Saturday March 25th, the Stash Blue Pack will drop.
So for another 2 days, they'll wait in line. I'm sure they've made complex arrangements for people to hold their spot. Today, a tent has emerged on the scene.

Crazy.

There's something for each person and if you have to have it, you have to have it.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Commentaries of the Day?

One of the RSS news feeds that pop-ups on my NewsFire is for WordSmith.
It's "war theme" week at Wordsmith.

Pyrrhic victory
A victory won at too great a cost.

casus belli
An action or event that causes or is used to justify starting a war.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Hea-V-y

“People should not be afraid of their governments, governments should be afraid of their people. ”
- V
Being completely unfamiliar with the work "V for Vendetta," I went into the movie with no expectations. To be honest, I did expect a stylish, perhaps noisy, well-made action thriller, due to the involvement of the Wachowski brothers. (While I was very disappointed with the Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions, there was no denying the greatness and impact of The Matrix. V for Vendetta is a fresh start for the Wachowskis IMO.)

What I got was surprisingly, great movie heavy in story and political/social commentary, wrapped in a beautifully filmed piece and none of the heavy handed special effects that we've grown accustomed to seeing in big budget films. I can definitively say, conservatives will hate V for Vendetta.

Hugo Weaving rocks. He's the new James Earl Jones/Darth Vader.

I highly recommend V for Vendetta and I totally want a Guy Fawkes mask.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

The Spanish Sound…

… and by Spanish I mean Spain.

Rocking the iPod of late.

Fav label at the moment, Beat Freak Recordings from which the following CDs originate.

Diametric 2 Tribe All - D-Formation



Dual - Simon & Shaker



Underground Sound of Madrid 2005



And some Spanish from closer to home…

Made in Miami - Oscar G.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Dance Satisfaction

After two days, with rest/sleep and a toxin purging, cardio session this morning, I’m recovered from Sunday morning’s dancing at Crobar for Victor Calderone’s Evolve, his birthday fête. I’m sufficiently non-scatterbrained enough to recount my experiences, so here I go.

It was a last minute decision to go. Well… not really. Maybe I’d pre-purchased my ticket sometime Friday night, could’ve been Thursday but don’t hold me to it.

Late Saturday afternoon with the day’s solemn activities behind me, I was online reading initial reviews of Danny Tenaglia’s birthday dance at Crobar. The party had been carrying on from the previous evening into the early, possibly late, late afternoon. Incoming reports were that he was phenomenal as I’d expected he’d be.

Slightly jealous. I truly hoped that VC would deliver an equally good time. I know I should have kept my expectations low, but I couldn’t help wishing to get turned out.

There was disturbing news that the security staff at Crobar had been pulling Asians off the line last night, denying them entry for no apparent reason. Though the stories were unsubstantiated and unclear, being Asian and eventually heading to Crobar, the uncertainty was killing me. The itch to dance was great, eager to balance the weekend.

Regardless, all systems were green as far as I was concerned.

I’d napped earlier in the day and slept a short time again in the evening before finally getting up. Readying myself around 3:30AM on Sunday morning, I was on my way by 4AM.

It’d been a while since I’d taken the train so late at night / so early in the morning. Fortunately the MTA was most kind. I caught the N to the D, one after the other. As an added bonus, the D went over the A line, eliminating the need for my last train connection, to get me over to the West Side. Awesome. Guess you’d have to have lived in NY to understand, and be a commuter traveling in the wee hours of the morning.

Emerging out of the subway, I walked the short few blocks to Crobar.

Police cars hurtled past me on 23rd Street with flashing lights, sirens silenced. They stopped on 9th Avenue, congregating ahead of me. A man was pushing another man towards me, holding him back. Avoiding close proximity to the pair, I veered to the curb, making a bus shelter, an obstacle. There was a cadre of police officers closing in on the men. I scurried into the Korean deli to grab a Red Bull. In hindsight, walking through the confrontation wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done.

Exiting, I continued on moving away from the fleet of vehicles, parked all askew.

Never a dull moment in NY. I love it.

Turning the corner onto West 28th, my heart dropped for sec. It looked like a long and jumbled crowd in front of Crobar. A street meat cart positioned close, swallowed everyone in a seared, seasoned beef smoke cloud. Yuck. Holding my breath I moved through the meat fog. Closer to the club, I realized the line wasn’t bad at all. More people were trying to get in on the comp list, then on the paying, ticketed line I was on. I breezed in, no Asian exclusion thankfully, in less than 15 minutes and followed the sound of the thumping beats.

David, from my Vinyl/Arc days was working coat check and let me skip the few people online, much to the chagrin of the security guy there. I immediately ran into Leks, whom I know from the dtourism message board, and his group of friends. He was leaving, having had enough of the pushy crowd, the zoo on the dance floor. He’d had his fill from the previous morning at Danny’s party and stayed long enough to hear DJ Vibe, who was still tearing it up. Saying good-bye, I braced myself and headed down to the main room.

Packed. Absolutely electric was the main room. DJ Vibe had the crowd frothing with his chunky, hard beats. Just the way I like em. The people had been going from the night before and there looked to be no stopping them. Albeit, you could see the change over of people starting to happen, going from the "out-for-the-night" attendees to the "fresh-for-the-afterhours attendees," like myself.

I was overjoyed, just to be out. Even though Crobar was still filled with Guidos This was exactly what I needed and nothing could pop my balloon. Not even the girl who burned me with her cigarette the first hour I was there. I smiled, she apologized profusely. I let it go and danced on.

DJ Vibe was fantastic to hear and I'm glad to have had the chance. Simply amazing, fluid mixing and fantastic dark beats, woven nicely together. His set, what little I caught was a journey unto itself. I surely won’t pass up on DJ Vibe the next time he headlines. Alas his set would end since he was only the primer for the afterhours, the opener for Sunday’s birthday boy.

By 6:00AM, as I’ve read (I don’t ever keep time when I’m out but I felt like it was sooner), Victor took over and proceeded to pound out a ridiculous, driving and body shaking set. Astounding. (I’m running out of adjectives I think.) Victor took us to the brink of insanity with his unrelenting style. It was too much fun.

By this time, many of the guidos had been replaced with the "boys," lots of cuties and "not so" but that's NY. Still, the homos do love Victor. I ran into a few friends whom I hadn’t seen in a while. They kept me company but I was lost in the music, dancing. It was hard to pull myself off of the dance floor. I danced non-stop for a while.

It was my mistake for escorting my friend Jonny to the bar and then seeing him off. It was then the crushing fatigue was overwhelming me. The desire to get home and sleep won me over and I headed out about 10:45AM. Out in to the miserable rain I went. Drat should have stayed longer.

Whew. I’m back to full strength and I’m ready to do it again. Not so soon, but Alegria is just around the corner. ;)

Suggested Listen:
If you've got the bandwidth and have the urge to hear some of DJ Vibe's sets from his Antenna 3 radio show in Portugal… Click here.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Happy Birthday Big A

Saturday, Mar. 11, 2006, he would have been 70 years old.

Hard to believe, it’s been little more than 5 months since his passing. It feels like yesterday that we were sitting with him at the Vegas Diner for breakfast. He beamed whenever his grandkids were there. Come to think of it, he beamed at everyone who came. To get us to come to breakfast, Big A’d always chided, “You don’t know how much longer I’ve got.” If only we’d known it was so true, we wouldn’t have skipped out as we did sometimes.

Since his death, we hadn’t gone back, not as a family. The memories would only bring back the sting of loss. However, in observance of Big A’s birthday, we did go. It was myself, the BF, his twin sister, her husband and son, little A, the BF’s other sister, family friend JJ and J. Not the whole family, but that was okay. Everyone will remember him in their own way.

It was a somber gathering. We didn’t talk much about Big A but we were there for him. His presence loomed. It was tinged with happiness. Little A, joyfully oblivious, grabbed at everything within arm’s reach as short as they were, distracting us.

One the restaurant workers, H, was happy to see us. We’d been fairly regular that we’d become acquainted with him. He’d come to Big A’s funeral.

We ate quickly and quietly. Little A cooed and slapped at the table, grunting a request now and again.
We steeled ourselves for the task ahead of driving out to the cemetery to pay our respects.

We’d all piled into separate cars but I imagine every car was as quiet as ours.

The day was gorgeous, perfect for a drive, perfect for his birthday. The scenery whizzed by without focus. The only thing I noted, we passed a funeral procession heading the same direction as us. It was just odd. Driving out as often as we did, never saw one, but now here’s one on this day.

Strange coincidences.

Arriving at the cemetery, we stopped by Big A’s grave which was also his father’s grave. He’d wanted to be buried with his father. He didn’t want his father to be alone. The grave stone only bore his father’s name. Big A’s name hadn’t been carved in yet. The BF’s sisters were on the case to figure out why.

In the clear sky, we stood silently, speaking to him. We were close to his earthly remains, but he was always with us. I touched the grave stone. No magical, wonderful energy surged into me, but I was comforted.

Quietly I wished him, Happy Birthday. I wish there’d been more.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Dance Yearnings, March Reality

My body ached. I was having another one of those mornings. I was grateful the gym had run out of towels. No towel. No shower. No sweaty cardio. Woohoo. Well, not necessarily in that order if you understand me… anyway, I set about a light workout. However, after a few exercises I wasn’t motivated, eventually finding myself sitting at the preacher bench, head propped.

mini me on my arm, Sword Fight by LES from Oscar G’s Made in Miami thrummed in my ears. Momentarily lost in the music, my mind wandered, wondering when the next opportunity to go clubbing would be.

“I wish I was going out this Friday,” whined an inner voice. Taken aback, I was stunned by the voice’s tone, petulant and childish. I hadn’t heard it in a long time. Yeah, I was one of those clubbers that obsessed about parties, annoyed and inconsolable if ever personal responsibilities and obligations had interfered with those activities.

Fortunately, I’d grown.

No, seriously. I have.

This Friday is Danny Tenaglia’s Birthday Bash…

at Crobar or THE Crobar as it’s referred to by some knuckle heads. It’s assured to be a blast. Danny always “brings it” for his birthday. I hadn’t missed his birthday dance in the past five years but as far as I was concerned, I was okay with passing this time. Subconsciously it seems, not so happy but no, this year I won’t be attending. dance evilbuddha will have to deal.

Much more important, meaningful and solemn things to do.

Saturday is the BF’s father’s birthday. We’re to have a memorial breakfast. Afterwards, we’ll drive out to the cemetery and pay our respects to the big guy. I’d mentioned my weekend plans to Robocub and my reasoning. He proffered another view that perhaps By going out, it would be a way of celebrating Big A’s life. Sigh. Robocub’s a good friend and an enabler. But Friday is still out.

Doesn’t mean I’ve ruled out the whole weekend. >:)



I’ve also made peace with the fact that I won’t be going to…



the Black Party, "The gay high holiday," a friend of Robocub’s called it. I’ve got a surprise 40th birthday party to attend that Sunday.

No, I’m not ready to have my gay card revoked just because I’m missing the BP.

/begin sarcasm/ The musical stylings of Peter Rauhofer and Offer Nissim weren’t enough to dissuade me from not going. /end sarcasm/

However, I’m saddened that I’ll miss the possibility of seeing Oliver again, half-nekkid in leather pants, glistening with sweat. WoW. As well as the opportunity to sit and chill with Joe.My.God in the later hours of the party. He opened my eyes to the joy and preciousness of the morning portion of the BP. He instilled an appreciation of where the BP had come from, some of the people/characters, disco music and the ceremony.
I’m eternally grateful for that. I would've liked to hear Michael Fierman with JMG. There's plenty this club guy can learn from his disco queen.

Sigh.


Strangely, I was also giddy about dressing heavy. Funny, how I've changed over time.

But as they say, when a door closes, there’s a window open somewhere. >:) evil grin.

Here's some info for any parties interested in… err… parties, that don't want to do the clicky-clicky.

Black Party
The Saint at Large’s annual Rites descends into the Schwarzwald (that’s Black Forest, for you non-Germanic types). Special guest Buck Angel holds the enviable title of being the first female-to-male trans porn star.
Mar 25, Roseland Ballroom, 239 W 52nd St, saintatlarge.com.

Hamman <--- did I mention this? No I didn't. Nope, Can't do it either.
The Saint at Large keeps Black Party insanity going with this afterparty featuring Junior Vasquez.
Mar 26, Pacha, 618 W. 46 St, pachanyc.com.

Alegria: Xtreme 6
As if Black Party weekend weren’t already wild enough, Ric Sena’s sweaty dance floor favorite returns with what is usually one of the hottest nights of the year.
11pm Sun Mar 26 @ Crobar, 530 W 28th St, 212-629 -9000, alegriaevents.com.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

New Release Tuesday

You know what that means? Best Buy Run.
Cashed in some RewardZone points.

Today's pick-ups…



My Neighbor Tortoro - A classic film from Hayao Mizayaki/Studio Ghibli of which I'm ashamed to say, I've never seen. I'll amend that shortly.



Howl's Moving Castle - Mizayaki's latest opus. An instant classic.
I got a whole $6 bucks off for getting Howl's and Tortoro. WooHoo!

Some non-anime…


and "not for me, but the BF"…

X3



X-Men: The Last Stand trailer is out. Like Patrick, for the first time I'm hopeful.

The previous, teaser trailer was light on visual effects, vague of story, looking unpolished and unrefined. Even the teaser posters were unretouched.

The production looks to have tightened up. The new effects promise X3 will be a visually fun ride. Of course, the story still has me dismayed.

Like all the comic-related movies of late (see Elektra, Spider-Man 2 and upcoming 3, Batman, Daredevil), X3 will overload the audience with too many storylines. Shoehorning one, two or three into a single movie, telling all of them and none of them well. From what I gather, so far you've got The Phoenix Saga (Rebirth and Fall), Days of Future Past story arcs. Each could respectfully fill a single movie alone. Add to that several characters introductions, new to the big screen: Angel, Beast, Kitty Pryde, Callisto, and for the first time, in action, Colossus. The movie hopes to fill you in on their origins, bringing you up to speed to the present? Ambitious, maybe too much so.

X3 obviously isn't about character development, it's a film for the X-fans of which I am one. Still, I'd like to see the X-Men and Brotherhood properly fleshed out.

Nevertheless, I'm hopeful and I can't wait till May.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Fraternal Re-Connect

After a home-cooked meal, a mix of Italian and Puerto-Rican flavors (simply yummy) at A & M's last evening, I headed home to await pick-up by friend and fraternity brother, B for an impromptu fraternity gathering.

If memory serves, today marks the 16th anniversary of when my chapter of the fraternity had been originally re-chartered.

I say "had been originally re-chartered" since after my tenure as an active member, subsequent brethren ran the chapter into the ground, resulting in the revocation of said re-chartered charter.

Some new, bright-eyed "men," after some fanagling and promises of never affiliating with members that were responsible for the previous negligence, had managed to re-establish the chapter.

They'd organized the get together of current actives with alums.

I'd been on the fence (see, not going). However, B's insistence and an IM reminder from another brother,"Hooch," convinced me otherwise.

I'd strong misgivings about the locale. Originally reported as being in Bay Ridge, the bar was on 5th Avenue and 61st Street in Brooklyn. Anyone Brooklynite worth his salt knows that's Sunset Park, a none-to-great section. Arriving at 10PM, there were some latino, thuggy looking guys (albeit hot in that way), hanging around. Could've been troublesome but they seemed content entertaining themselves, shooting pool.

I spoke to some of the current members, including a new inductee who was nauseatingly young at 19 years old!! Youth is so wasted on the young. Anywho, I (half) jokingly commented on how unrewarding it was to be a pledgemaster or member of council. Like a management job, you spend your time trying to make everyone happy and make no one happy. They (the nauseatinglys young) didn't feel my humor. I proffered this, "This is the time of your life. Enjoy it, make the most of it. If you chose to take on responsibilities in the fraternity, Great. That'll be some good life lessons you'll learn and carry into your future." End sage words for the evening. Imbibe more beer.

The gathering was satisfying. It could've been better if more older brothers from my era showed up, so that I could catch up with them. But it was good to do so with the few that did show up. Definitely took me back to when I was in college. Except now, they're mostly married with children and I'm, well, not.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Extra chances

He popped into my head one morning. Our lives had intersected and we'd become very good friends.

It'd been some time since we'd fell out of touch. Separation borne of different life paths, it was no fault of ours that'd we'd grown apart. There was always email, still, the effort proved too much for too little return. We simply drifted.

I was struck by a pang of loss. I assuaged my sadness, gently returning it to the locked portion of my heart, from which it slipped.

Breathing deeply and exhaling, I moved forward into the day.

Lunchtime rolled around, I marched myself to the gym. Leaving an ATM, he darted out in front of me in the flesh. In a flash, a torrent of thoughts flooded my mind. What do I do? Do I stop him and say hello? Should I even? Does he have the space in his life for me? He looks rushed Perhaps I shouldn't. I won't.

I didn't miss a beat during my internal dialogue, sidestepping past him and darting into the gym entrance. He hadn't seen me. I sighed in relief. I cursed under my breathe. Why hadn't I spoken to him? I admonished myself. I laughed too. Fate's fickle finger playing games with me. Or did I wish this? did I make this happen? Perhaps, but I wasn't ready.

I let my opportunity slip away to reconnect with him and I had no one to blame but myself. Again, I put my feelings away and brooded. That was that.

So I thought.

Fast forward 2 months to last Tuesday.

Walking from the gym, I saw him again. My heart skipped a beat and a lump caught in my throat. I was given another chance. I hesitated a moment, then I called out his name.

Surprised, he brightened when he recognized me. Promising. We hugged saying hello. We made small talk, catching up with what we were doing with ourselves and our lives. He apologized for falling out of touch. Promising again. Maybe there's hope.

Before the conversation dragged and got too awkward, I figured to part with at least the promise of talking again. Still it was an awkward separation. We didn't have any business cards. I gave him my email. Perhaps he'll write, perhaps he won't. At least I did something and the ball's in his court. I'm hopeful. We'll see.