Sermons…

20130505_133128

I figured you could all use a break from mine for a change, and instead simply take some time to enjoy a little ditty Bobby Darin didn’t make famous, way back when he first recorded it.

Kick it, B.D…

•••

Today’s impromptu post is brought to you by Daily Prompt‘s call for an Opposite Day. So against my usual grain, I posted impromptu-ishly, I refrained from any and all pontification or “fiction,” and I posted not (1), but (2) pictures of me. Here’s the second:

20130505_133134Happy Sunday!

Briefly… I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today

copyright - Indira by way of Scott Vanatter

copyright – Indira by way of Scott Vanatter

Think I’m gonna throw up…

WHAT???

I think I’m gonna…

Well, don’t do it HERE!

Then pull over.

I can’t! We’re gridlocked in traffic. Just open the door. No one will notice…

Better?

Yeah.

What happened? You’re not drunk already, are you?

No, just nervous.

Listen, understanding it’s your wedding, this sort of thing does happen almost every day.

But not to ME!

OK honey, I know. But when two men love each other like you and Dave do, well, it’s just natural, you know?

I know.

It’ll be all right darling. No rain today, OK?

OK dad. No rain today.

•••

Even in the worst of times, Love prevails. This is a very special mash-up for me, between 100 Word Song and Friday Fictioneers – along with inspiration from k~ over at Bloggit Write – in celebration of the death of DOMA. In celebration of the victory of Love.

Mind you, I’m none to sure why gay folk would want to get married. But in a growing number of states waking up to the truth, they at least now the right to make the same mistake as the rest of us; and the right to make mistakes is a beautiful thing…

This week’s song was chosen by some crazy Darin fan (I know, they’re ALL crazy!): “I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today” by Robert Walden Cassotto

Tags, Peace & Love

There are certain bloggers who are above playing along with the “tag, your it” posts.

I am not one of these.

Well, not this time at any rate, because this time I was tagged by one of my favorite writers out here, Nowan Zen from I’m Not Lost, Just Weird.

And just as I was beginning to compile the reams of documentation required for these types of posts, who should drop in, but Shannon from The Squeaky Wheel Blog, who also asked if she could tag me (that’s right Nowan, Shannon asked…)

So what will follow will be a Frankensteining of sorts, between the (2) tags, and since both require that additional people are then – well – tagged in a “play it forward” fashion, I am simply saying screw it, and throwing this right back onto the two who first nabbed me, with each being tasked to figure out just what parts pertain to them (if you’d like to be tagged as well, start gathering your paperwork, and just let me know).

OK, ready?

Both require a picture. Both will receive the same one. This is me and my boys at Pride 2013. Simon is an agnostic who believes in Jesus more than a lot of Christians do, and he wanted to express the idea that J.C. was all about love and inclusion, versus hate and exclusion. Hence his marching the parade (as he came be known by the crowd) as “Rainbow Jesus.” I’m the lumpy old guy in the middle.

Rainbow Jesus

Both require 11 random facts. Why is it always 11, and why must they always be random? Never the mind, here goes:

1. Technically, I suppose the “lumpy” bit could count as number 1.

2. Simon caught a lot of flak from his mother and her family for his decision. He stuck to his guns anyway. Fine, not actually a random fact about me, but I’m proud of him regardless.

3. Yes, our t-shirts say “Jesus Is Not A Homophobe.”

4. “Homophobe” refers to a person who is hateful of Gay and Lesbian people. Apparently scared that this sort of thing is contagious…?

5. Yes, we’ll get off the subject of the damned photo already.

6. Random fact # 7 actually comes in at # 6.

7. See above

8. Sorry – just one more thing. Ian is going next year in full drag.

9. I’m damned proud of him as well.

10. Lookie here, we’re already at the second-to last one!

11. When I was young, I used to suck my thumb. It soothed me greatly. I recently tried it again, but it just didn’t have the same affect. Damned thumb.

Both have a bunch of questions. Some I will answer honestly, others I will simply bullshit my way through, and for none of them will I actually be funny, insightful or in any way engaging…

Nowen asks:

  1. What is your quest? To dream the impossible dream, of course. Duh!
  2. If you could select any character from the Big Bang Theory to describe yourself, which one would you select and why? (Losing Nerd cred), I’ve never watched the show, but (gaining Nerd cred), if this were about Hitchhikers Guide to The Galaxy, I would be the lorry driver who doesn’t realize that he is actually the God of Rain.
  3. When was the last time you laughed hard enough to snort (aka Donkey Honk) and what was so funny? The last time was when Ian (pictured above as not Jesus) came up to me and asked if he could go to Target.com to “buy a set.” Turns out, he was actually talking about legos.
  4. If you could travel anywhere and live all expenses paid for a year, where would that be? (No you may not select Uranus. Stop giggling!) The sky. No lie. Just up there in the blue. Not to get away from it all, but rather, above it. Incidentally, and since neither asked, flying is also my superpower of choice.
  5. What was the last book you read that you actually enjoyed and why would you recommend it? Andrew Davidson’s, The Gargoyle. Because it was creepy, sexual, inspiring and scary. Long before my divorce ever came down, this book showed me that True Love was not what I had. That and it made me cry. Oh, it’s also a nice weight and size to place in the small of your back, should it be aching in the middle of the night.
  6. What is your motto or mantra for your life? To dream the impossible dream, of course. Duh!
  7. You have one chance to witness first hand any event, you cannot alter it only witness it, what would it be? In all seriousness, I would like to be there on Easter morning. Not to prove to myself that it actually happened, but just to be able to give Him a hug and say thank you.
  8.  A book is being written about your life by an observer, what would the title be? Wonder How Many People Are Actually Gonna Buy This Book?
  9. What would creep you out the most? (seeing me naked is NOT an acceptable answer!) The very thing that I most desire – an actual visit from an angel. I’ve known a few who have told me of this experience, and I chose to believe them all. It’s the one thing I’ve always longed for to happen, but it would also creep me right out of my skin if it ever did.
  10. You have a friend who really needs a laugh, how do you get them to laugh? (dress in a hamster suit and dance the Macarena is funny) Depends on the person, but I can usually get people laughing just by walking into a room…
  11. What is the worst pick-up line you have heard used that worked? My little brother used to use it to great success and often, and it really can say a lot about certain members of the female of the species. He would say simply, “Get Away From Me.”

Shannon asks:

1. What smell instantly takes you back to a moment from your childhood?

Sixlets. When we were little, every year Christmas morn found us craddling hollow tube candy canes, packed to the brim with m&m’s. But these m&m’s smelled different. Tasted better. Ma n’ Pa said it was because they were Christmas m&m’s delivered by Santa, but they lied. Not too sure about the Santa part, but definitely about their being m&m’s. They were not, they were sixlets. I still like them better than m&m’s, and I still get mentally thrown back to Christmas 1970-something every time I open a bag. (Incidentally, this simutanlously makes me miss terribly the Godzilla Shogun Warrior I also had from around the same time – yeah, the one with the launching fist.)

2. What song will make you headbang/car dance/waltz around your living room no matter what kind of a shitty mood you’re in?

There is only ONE song that needs be played for this. “Jesus Built My Hot Rod,” by Ministry of course.

Or, “Got Some” by Pearl Jam I suppose.

And again, there’s also “Dont Fuck Me Up” by Cracker. And you can’t forget “Going Nowhere” by Therapy?, and I suppose I would have to mention my quizzer’s son’s near-namesake, The Exploited’s “Daily News.” And, well, I guess there’s at least a couple that trip my anger trigger.

Oops! Almost forgot “Hell Bent For Leather” by Judas Priest!

3. If you had to pick having to smell roses everywhere you went all the time or never being able to see the color blue, which would you choose?

I hate roses. And no, not because they “really smell like poo, poo-poo.” I hate them because they are so widely regarded as beautiful, with little or no actual reasoning behind this assessment. And in my experience, anything – or one – who is looked upon like this, can quite often have a deep inner ugliness that, when stumbled upon, destroys any semblance of the previously held viewpoint. That being said, if I chose the latter over the former, I would never again be able to look up into the deep azure sky, and long for the day that I will be able fly up there, unaided by man-made plane, controlled by heaven-made pilot. So I will simply have to resign myself to smelling those fucking roses all the time instead.

4. Would you be more afraid of a rhinoceros charging at you or a hippopotamus?

I would be more afraid if neither was charging me in fact. I mean, how could they not? Look at me, I’m freakin’ delicious.

5. Which, to you, would be the most flattering way to finish this sentence: Your writing really reminds me of _______.

The love-child of Douglas Adams and C.S. Lewis. With the full understanding that Mr. Lewis couldn’t actually bear Mr. Adams a child, resulting from his religious convictions.

6. Is it hard for you to stay on task from beginning to end, or do you jump around and do a little of this and a little of that and eventually cross the finish line?

Wait! There’s a finish line???

7. What is your biggest pet peeve about yourself?

43 years later, I still fall into that old trap of believing that my best will never be good enough. “Never,” as in the deepest, bleakest, most worthless never ever.

8. Do you plan to write your own epitaph or let someone else do it? Or, I guess conversely, cremation or burial would need to be answered first. TWO-PARTER! So that’s 8 & 9, because I multi-task like a motherfucker!

I’m going to answer this as a politician would. Which bascially means the answer will have nothing to do with the question. I’ve told my kids I want exactly (3) things for my funeral, and they can do whatever else they want with the rest of the service. 1) no wake. NO. WAKE. I’ve been to many, they’re all creepy, and not a damned one has actually worked. No wake. 2) bury me in pajamas (or if I die in the summer, nude is fine). Seriously, a liftime of corporate strangulation, and then you get stuck in a suit and tie for the big sleep? No thank you! 3) Bobby Darin MUST be played at the funeral. “Artificial Flowers,” to be exact. Don’t ask why.

10. All time favorite curse word, either one you’ve heard or one you’ve made up in the heat of the moment?

Douchery, fuckery, jack-assery. Catching a theme here? Basically, you can take any swear word, simply place a “ery” at the end, and it instantly becomes cool. Now, lets stop dicking around, and move on.

Incidentally “dicking around” could possibly the coolest, most nebulous swears ever. Use it often. People will think you’re smart if you do.

11. What vanity license plate would put “YOU” out there for all other driver’s to know?

“Can you believe that this cat actually thinks it’s cool to say ‘fuckery’?”

Both require a litany of new questions be generated and parceled out. But I’ve only one. Well, more like 2 – 3 in one.

If this is all that there is, and there is nothing else, either after or before, are you happy? I mean, truly happy? If “no,” then what can you do to turn that? And if “yes,” then where can I get what you’re having?

So there we go.

Shannon, Nowen, swap questions and get back to me, ya hear? Oh, and I’m also tagging Twin Daddy because I really respect his writing (though he has no idea I exist), and because He was the one that got me into this mess with Shannon in the first place.

So there.

If you’ve read this far, you deserve a little treat. So here, have a Cracker…

Beyond The Sea

You know what I said last week about finding inspiration for these pictures? Yeah, well this week none of that happened, as the very second the prompt picture popped open, I shouted excitedly – and to no one in particular – “PEN PALS!!!”

That’s right, this week’s Friday Fictioneers immediately made me think of the pen pals bit I wrote a little while back for the 100 Word Song challenge, and I thought we’d revisit these kids now to see how they’re doing, cool?

Hope you enjoy!

aqueduct-sarah-ann-hall

Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

Wanting to touch her cheek, he reached out slowly, till his fingertips softly tickled the image on the screen before him.

They were so much alike, yet different. They were so very connected, yet far apart, each firmly entrenched to their own place.

He longed to traverse those few thousand miles, but was unable to break himself free. So instead, he continued sending pictures and words across the ocean, hoping that she would see in them, his love for her.

Sighing, he wondered what she was doing at that moment.

Wanting to touch his constantly tossled hair, her fingertips softly brushed the image on the screen before her…

•••

Changes…

If I were a Drag Queen, she would be my Drag Mother.

No, scratch that. That’s not what I meant.

What I meant was this: she is to me, the Bloggerish version of what a Drag Mother would be.

There, that’s better.

More experienced than I, she took me under her wing – for no reasonable reason – and let me know point blank how it should be. She followed my posts, and freely told me what I was doing right. She honestly told me what I was doing wrong as well. Lovingly holding my feet to the flame when she felt – knew, really – that I could do better. And, when I was truly beginning to doubt what it all meant, to the point of voicing ideas about reinventing myself as a woman (again, in a bloggerish fashion only, as an actual operation would be far too costly); she took the time to privately message me, letting me know that change was good. Possible. That sometimes it was quite all right to shake things up and strip ’em down. Or, if the WordPress Daily Post people are reading along, to “start over.”

Picture 1

And so it is.

And so I will. I mean, change implies growth, and growth is indicative of, well, growth. As such, moving forward this bloggie of mine will need to grow along with me (first point of concern – stop calling it a “bloggie.”) I’m going to trim some fat. Need to copy a paper on the merits of same-sex marriage for PSYCH101? Better snag it quick, as “stuff i have to write for school” is going bye-bye. Older posts too, may fall off the screen, as I re-tweak the site to satisfy my current outlook, and present a more polished appearance.

I’m going to get involved with more prompts as well (you’ve been warned, Prompt People!) I like these exercises, because they force me to focus more on form and fiction, and less on my usual lackadaisical pissery. Rest assured, you’ll most likely still get a mouthful from me at least once a week about some sort of imagined injustice or “woe is me,” but for the most part, this kid is going to try to keep things tight from here on out. Like Morrissey, I’ll now channel my mopey nature in an effort to be all creative n’ stuff – instead of just sitting around being mopey, like Morrissey.

Esthetically speaking, I’m none to sure if I’ll change the look of the site overall, but I can tell you this, the Darin Love ain’t going anywhere. I connect on a lot of levels with BD, and though my readership is small, I’ve got to continue to spread the gospel of Darin – yes – even “beyond the sea” if need be, funny guy.

Speaking of, the music will stay as well. I mean, how could it not? As it was my first-ever best friend, and a constant companion even these 43 years later. I can’t promise you anything current as, with age comes the belief that nothing new is “as good as,” and therefore worth investigating. But I can tell that every post will continue to have a link of some sort at the bottom to sonically reward you for your patronage. In truth, I sometimes think it’s my biggest draw.

Hey, what’s my word count?

553?

Cool, time to wrap it up then. Drag Mother hates when I bloat my posts with unwarranted and wasted words.

So, there we have it. Change is good, starting over, quite all right as needed. I know that it’s a lesson I learned a long time ago, but apparently one that I need to be re-educated on from time to time as well. I’m excited to see what comes next. Thanks Drag Mom for the confidence. Thanks WordPress for the prompt that forced my hand on this decision. And as always, thanks to all of you screw bags who continue to read along =)

•••

What? You didn’t think I was actually going to ignore my music snobbery, and pull the obvious Bowie card here, did you?