January 2006 Archives
- January 31, 2006: Leave the Pipe Bomb at Home || No. of Comments: 4
Yesterday morning at around 11:30, a man got off the elevator and walked into our lobby. Wearing stonewashed jeans, a gray button-up cotton shirt and a heavy coat, he stepped up to our receptionist, who was peering at him from behind her iMac. Numerous examples of my agency’s advertising were pasted on rusted metal plates behind her. Alternative music played on the speakers. “Is this the place that women have abortions at?” the man asked. Our receptionist — a blonde-haired, 25-year-old girl with sharp wits — looked at him speechless. “Um. No.” “Okay,” he said, and walked out. Freak….
- January 27, 2006: Here’s My Advice || No. of Comments: 3
Aaron, Justin and Greg. Photo by Paul Nixdorf. Tip back a few glasses of wine — one or two too many is perfect, especially at an open bar (thanks, Target) — settle into a seat and laugh your ass off at Knock! (Info at Theater Latte Da.) It’s like a mix of Disney’s Fantasia, Charlie Chaplin and TV’s Wonder Years. You have until February 19….
- January 23, 2006: Saturday, A Late Breakfast || No. of Comments: 1
We eat our pancakes and egg sandwiches in front of the hot grill, grease boiling in the potatoes, the young short order cook hungover and looking like he needs to cook a few servings of steak & eggs for himself. The noontime sun lights up the tiny Band Box Diner, a greasy spoon that’s made it through decades of change on its little corner in Minneapolis’ Elliott Park. One gets the feeling that not a lot has changed there since the diner opened its single door in 1934. Much of its clientele are regulars; they don’t need to tell the…
- January 16, 2006: Love of the Dance || No. of Comments: 6
Donning cowboy boots, black slim-fit jeans and matching snap-button shirts, my sister and I — awkward 14-year-olds — would often accompany my grandparents to a local dance hall for evenings of two-stepping and line dances. Before our excursions, my grandmother would sprinkle her basement floor with corn starch, pull out her binder full of line dances — each step counted out on bond paper — and turn on the music for us to practice. More than 10 years later and a timezone away, my grandmother never fails to ask when I’m going dancing with her. As her mind unravels and…
- January 13, 2006: Queer Eye for the Ad Agency || No. of Comments: 2
A partner in my agency just came to me and said, “How busy are you these days?” “Well, quite busy,” I said. “Are you looking for help with something?” “Yeah, we need to do some redesign work in our office lobby, over in this area by the kitchen and back in that area by the ping pong table. We need to work with set builders, designers and other people to get it done.” “So you’re asking me to be a queer eye for you straight guys?” “Yeah, kinda.” “I’m in.”…
- January 10, 2006: Silly || No. of Comments: 3
This morning a few tears were leaking out of my eyes and more were on the verge of coming, thanks to Aaron Aanthem’s recent entry, when a co-worker stopped by my desk. I could see her looking at me with concern like, “Do I ask him what’s wrong or pretend like everything is fine?” And I thought, “Do I tell her the silly reason why I’m crying or do I pretend like everything’s fine and she’s just imagining these tears?” I told her….
- January 10, 2006: Yeehaw || No. of Comments: 1
I just eBayed me a pair of genuine Tony Lama shitkickers. Competition was fierce and the adrenaline was high, but at the end of the auction I emerged victorious. Soon I will have in my hands a pair of — in the seller’s own typewritten words — “BLACK SMOOTH LEATHER TONY LAMAS AIN’T NOTHIN’ SPECIAL, JUST NICE LOOKIN’ DRESS OR EVER’DAY BOOTS.” I doubt they’ll be either DRESS or EVER’DAY BOOTS for me, but they could be fun for, I don’t know, kicking up my heels or somethin’ Total price, including shipping: $41….
- January 9, 2006: Desiderata || No. of Comments: 2
I posted this poem by Max Ehrmann a year ago. Today, though, it feels like a good thing to share again. Desiderata Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be…
- January 7, 2006: Over the River || No. of Comments: 5
Sometimes, when everything that could possibly go wrong in a week has (and more), you have to rely on your friends to pull you away from despair and give you a change of scenery. Like St. Paul at midnight. And then they allow you to pry open your puffy eyes and take photos of them because they know that’s an endeavor that makes you feel better. Click for bigger….
- January 6, 2006: Still a Country Girl || No. of Comments: 8
On the schedule for this Saturday is a volleyball clinic, as well as an art opening at Ox-Op and a puppetry performance at the Walker Art Center with the very long title of “Entertainment by Dan Graham and Tony Oursler Featuring Japanther and the Huber Marionettes: Don’t Trust Anyone Over Thirty.” This morning my friend Aaron e-mailed me to ask if Sunday I want to go to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts or the Weisman Art Museum. A good urban gay would revel in all the highbrow snobbery of art openings and strange performances (“Punch and Judy meets the Who”…
- January 4, 2006: Another Suitcase in Another Hall || No. of Comments: 8
It is with great sadness that I today announce the end of an era of splendor and happiness. For the next seven days I will wear nothing but black clothes and will cover my mirrors in black shrouds of fine linen, for I am in mourning. Without warning or premonition, the halcyon days of free Chipotle burritos have come to a close. Today, for the first time since the flowers were just starting to bloom in early spring, I have handed over my debit card and paid for my chicken fajita bowl. My tears mingle with my cilantro, my plastic…
- January 2, 2006: Hello Again || No. of Comments: 5
While there were five people staying at Bill and Doug’s cabin retreat this weekend and at least seven others at nearby cabins, the most important visitor was nature itself. Like a glamorous party guest dressed to the nines, the snow-laden trees and valleys and lakes demanded our full attention and awe. The curving, white roads we traveled on were our quiet but firm docents, prompting us to admire this vista and then that as we rounded one bend and then another. From the warmth of home we watched a bald eagle — a mere 15 yards away — survey…
