The Gayest Things You'll See This Week

Kenyth Mogan

It's been quite a while, I think, since I've done a Gayest Things post. Not that Uncle P is any less gay than before... whatever. 

Anyway... this post is about me and one of the best things to happen to me in a long time and the difference a chance encounter has made in my outlook. I know I've talked about my battles with depression in the past. And while I haven't talked about it much, Mom's death in 2013 left me with some very unexpected financial burdens which I'm still trying to sort out. Things were pretty bleak for a while (and in some aspects, still are). Then two things happened. First, I was cast in a terrific show with some terrific folks and spent time doing something comfortable, familiar, challenging and cathartic (and something Mom would have wanted me to do).

Second, prompted by another of Mom's wishes, I joined several online dating/meeting sites, though I had honestly given up on finding anyone at my age, who might even offer the hope of romance. But that changed last October, about a week after the anniversary of Mom's passing, when I agreed to meet with someone I met on one of the sites I'd joined.  I'll admit, I had my trepidations. The last guy I met online (while Mom was still alive) turned out to be a selfish social-climber whose home was filled his ceramic frog collection and wooden signs spouting  meaningless platitudes and 'motivational' cliches. Can you say 'douche?'

But I did go to that Pizzeria Uno that Sunday night and was very pleasantly surprised to meet a man  I not only found very attractive, but with whom conversation was so easy, natural and pleasant. And as different as we are, we had more than enough in common to make a connection. Our first kiss at the end of that first date was.... electric! Four months later and we're like... well...

J is sweet; kind; funny; tender; attentive; romantic; a great kisser and (TMI alert) outrageously good when it comes to 'intimate activities.'  He's 6' 3" tall, adorable and solid! His giggle is infectious and he is cuddly as all get out. This past weekend saw our first overnight together and I can honestly report that I am still aglow from those 18 hours -- and if his Facebook posts are to be believed (and I have no reason to doubt so), so is he.  When I am with him, everything else goes away... and after we part, the glow of my time spent with him is astonishing. I can't (for lots of reasons and circumstances) use the "L" word, yet, but this is the closest to it I've been in a long time!

All of that having been said, I found the below video on Towleroad, thinking it sweet, funny and oddly appropriate for the intoxicated  mood in which I find myself. Please enjoy Kenyth Mogan's Oz-inspired video for his newest single, 'Unlock Your Heart.'

More from Cloud Nine, anon.
Prospero

Love and Death

Saint Valentine?

It's been a very long time since Uncle P has had a Valentine. In fact, I think I've mentioned before that the last Valentine's Day I celebrated, my date dumped me (the night after we saw Shakespeare in Love).

The photo to your right is of a supposed 'Holy Relic' of what may have been any number of Christian martyrs by the Roman name of Valentinus. Having directed what should have been a wonderful production of Michael Hollinger's play Incorruptible (a theatre story for another post), I doubt the veracity of any and all such 'relics.'

Nonetheless, Hallmark; Hershey's; Nestle's; Godiva; American Greetings; Zales; Jarrod's and the SAF (among any other number of retailers) have all managed to turn the legend of a Christian martyr who either died because he professed his love to a Roman woman or performed Christian marriages despite prohibitive Roman law (sound familiar?) into a money-making opportunity. There's no definitive story for this particular 'saint' and much like St. Christopher, Valentine's actual existence is often called into question. Like most modern Western holidays, I regard Valentine's Day as a shameless grab at consumers' money. If you are lucky enough to have a special person in your life, it shouldn't take a special day for you to do or buy something to show how much you love them. And the possibly horrific murder of a 3rd Century priest really shouldn't make one bit of difference.

If we're talking murder and mayhem, this is more my style:



More, anon.
Prospero

Head Over Heels

The older I get, the less I care about entertainment awards shows. When I was a kid, there were only five: The Oscars; The Tonys; The Emmys; The Grammies and sometimes The Golden Globes. It was a big deal when Rita Moreno became the first person ever to win the all of the Big Four. Then came MTV and it all went haywire.  Of course, it still seems to me that awarding prizes for art is just silly. How does one maintain objectivity in such a subjective field? But since we do so award arts and entertainment, and since I'd like to consider myself to be primarily an 'Entertainment' blogger, I guess I should at least comment on them, no?

The Grammys were tonight, hosted by hot rapper/actor LL Cool J. The bastard step-child of awards shows, no one really cares about the Grammy awards anymore (if they ever really did). The general decline in the quality of popular music in the last 30 years makes me sound like my parents complaining about music in the 80's. Of course, we knew enough to appreciate how what came before influenced those who were popular at the time. Today's popular music is boring, repetitive and unoriginal crap. This year's Grammy broadcaster CBS issued a much-reported dress-code memo to invited attendees. I honestly can't wait to see the response.

The Oscars finish the season in a few weeks, and while I've seen several of the nominated films, I haven't seen enough of any of them to make any sort of truly informed opinion,. Curiously, I have now seen two of the films nominated in the Best Animated Short category. The first is from Disney, combining traditional hand-animation with CGI for the sweet and romantic Paperman:

Also nominated is Head Over Heels, a striking stop-motion film about a middle-aged couple who are separated by so much more than just gravity.

I know there is a live-action Sci-Fi-Romance coming out with a similar idea, though I doubt it will have the same emotional impact and commentary as that surprisingly delightful short. I think I need to seek out the other nominees in this category. I'll let you know what I find.

More, anon,
Prospero

Bite Me, Mother Nature (or: The Saddest Gay Post This Week)

Better call me a waaahhm-bulance.

As I sit in my home office writing this post, the 'historic' storm Nemo (really, Weather Channel?) is raging outside. Well, it's snowing. And has been for several hours, amassing less than 2" so far. Not enough to be crippling like in 1996, but just enough to make travel unwise and spoil a very special evening I was supposed to have with T. This after a truly  horrendous day at the Day Job. The storm is having a major impact on us, while causing unnecessary panic for our clients who don't read or bother to look at the updates on our website (or look in completely inappropriate places when they attempt to -- it's on the home page in bright orange! How can you not see that?). This was the worst possible weekend in all of winter for this storm to hit. I ended up having to stay late, on top of (and this is really just adding insult to injury) cancelling my very much-anticipated date with T because of the impending driving conditions (45 minutes of highway driving in sleet and snow isn't really all that wise). To be honest, it was quite possibly the worst Friday I've ever had (or at least certainly in the Top 5). 

So I came home and tried to cheer myself up a bit. I watched some comedies I'd DVR'd and then poured myself a drink and visited good old Towleroad, where there were two exceptionally gay clips that almost did the trick. You'll see why I say "almost."

First up, openly gay Bravo president and talk-show/reality-show host Andy Cohen recently had Jenny McCarthy and Calvin Klein Superbowl model Matthew Terry play a ridiculously exploitative game called "Paper or Plas-Take It Off:"

Terry may be young and very pretty,  but McCarthy might as well be an SNL cougar. Fail.

So, I went for some nonsense and the video for RuPaul's latest single, Peanut Butter. Watch first and then we'll discuss (may be NSFW):

First, let me get this right out of the way: Who the f**k is Big Freedia? Bitch scares me. Second: Ru, bubbulah, what the hell? Stick with dance tracks, girl. This bizarre rap/dubstep mashup weirdness just doesn't work. For anyone. 

Of course, RuPaul is outrageous. We get it. And we know you have to keep up with the times if you want to stay in the spotlight, but aren't the dancing twinks in banana hammocks in a video for a 'song' that's basically one big penis joke just overkill?* We deserve better from the Queen of Drag.

I really shouldn't complain. I know it could be so much worse. New York and New England are going to get slammed for the second -- and even third -- time in less than a year. Still, sometimes it seems I just can't get a friggin break for myself, ya know?

So I am left to console myself with smoke and drink, taking some pleasure in the idea of anticipation. After all, half the fun of any great roller-coaster is the anticipation as the train climbs that first hill, waiting to take that first breath-taking, soaring, weightless plunge*... I need a cigarette, now. Just don't remind me that an exceptionally horrendous Monday is just a brief two days away.

*Every single pun ever, intended.

I'll make this up to you, T. Promise.

More, anon.
Prospero

Flashmob Nonsense & A Hint of Romance

Nonsense on the MTA

Despite (or perhaps because of) the recent deaths of two people who unknowingly shared in the forming of the person I am today, I thought tonight we should talk about something fun.

Who doesn't like to have fun? A smile, laugh or giggle; administered as often as possible; to everyone; every day, would certainly go a long way to making life just that much better. 

"Shut up you liberal, tree-hugging, gay elitist!" 

What? Who said that? You have no power here. Begone, before someone drops a house on you! 

This particularly delightful bit of nonsense has been popping up all over the place today and I am hardly ashamed to share it. As you know, Uncle P adores a good flashmob and have for several years now tried to find a reason to stage one of my own creation... (of course, it just may be the way to... no, not gonna share. Yet. I love when inspiration strikes). 

People who don't frequent New York City think of it as a cold, heartless place where dreams are made and dashed, traffic is ridiculous and its residents immune to their surroundings. Well, here's something to change the minds of people who hate the city I love so much:

I need to walk along 7th Avenue, see a show and end the night in the Village, stat! Good thing is, I may have someone special with whom to do that, soon... Intrigued? Me too. I'll let you know what does or doesn't happen... Well, maybe not everything that happens.

More, anon.
Prospero

"It's No Crime to Be Alive."

Gene Tierney and Rex Harrison

A 'Romantic Fantasy,' 1947's The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, based on the novel by R.A. Dick, tells the story of widower Lucy Muir (Gene Tierney) who moves in to an English seaside cottage which is haunted by the ghost of it's former owner, Captain Daniel Gregg (Rex Harrison). Lucy's daughter Anna (Natalie Wood) and maid Martha (Edna Best) join her, though Gregg only appears to Lucy, agreeing that Anna is "...too young for ghosts." When Lucy's investments fail, Gregg helps her out by dictating his memoirs to her. The resulting book, 'Blood and Swash' proves to be a best-seller and Lucy earns enough to keep the cottage. Of course, during the writing of the book, Lucy and Daniel fall in love. Knowing their romance is hopeless, Daniel advises Lucy to find a "real" (i.e. living) man. 

Lucy eventually goes to London to publish her book, and meets charismatic children's author Miles Fairly (George Sanders). Fairly follows Lucy to Gull Cottage and begins to woo her. Knowing he doesn't stand a chance against a living person, Captain Gregg agrees to leave Mrs. Muir alone to pursue her happiness. Lucy is later devastated to learn that Fairly is not only married with a family of his own, but has behaved similarly with other women. She soon shuts herself away at Gull Cottage with Martha. Years later, a grown Anna (Vanessa Brown) returns to Gull Cottage with her Navy Lieutenant fiance, telling her mother she knew all along about Gregg and Fairly and that Fairly has grown fat and bald and has been abandoned by his wife.  Lucy and Martha grow old together and on her death bed, Gregg appears to Lucy, lifting her youthful spirit up and the two of them disappear into the mist. The movie's original trailer can be seen here. I've embedded a fan-made homage below:

24 years later, the movie inspired a 1968 TV sitcom starring Hope Lange as 'Carolyn' Muir; Edward Mulhaire as Daniel Gregg; character actress Reta Shaw (Mary Poppins) as Martha and gay icon Charles Nelson Reilly as the Captain's wimpy descendant, Claymore. The series ran for two full seasons and was my youthful  introduction to the story.

The original film, directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, is just about as atmospheric and romantic as they come. Harrison is superb as the externally gruff Captain Gregg, whose heart is captured after death, while Tierney (best known for her Oscar nominated performance in Otto Preminger's Laura) is simply lovely. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir may not be a scary ghost movie by any means, but it is certainly worth a look for film students and lovers of old-fashioned love stories.

More, anon.
Prospero.

Ditto

Whoopi Goldberg and Patrick Swayze

So far we've talked about scary ghost movies and funny ghost movies. I thought it was time to talk about a romantic ghost movie. And they don't get much more romantic than 1990's Ghost, starring Demi Moore, Patrick Swayze and Whoopi Goldberg in a role that won her an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress.

Sam (Swayze) and Molly (Moore) are a young New York couple. He's banker and she's a potter. When Sam discovers a discrepancy at the bank, he confides to his friend Carl (Tony Goldwyn, currently so good as the conflicted  POTUS on ABC's "Scandal"). Carl offers to investigate, but Sam says he'll take care of it. Later that night, on their way home from a date, Sam is gunned down in a botched mugging. But Sam isn't gone. His ghost is still here, learning about his new found afterlife through a series of encounters with other earth-bound spirits, including a rather malevolent NYT subway ghost played by Vincent Schiavelli. While Sam is hanging around the apartment, his killer breaks in, looking for something. Sam freaks out the cat, scaring the killer away. Following the killer, Sam learns that he intends to return and kill Molly, if need be. He also encounters con-artist Oda-Mae (Goldberg), who has been bilking money from people by claiming to talk to the dead. Oda-Mae is freaked out that she can actually hear (though not see) Sam and thinks she's losing her mind. Sam convinces her that he is real and gets her to help him uncover why he was killed (and to contact Molly).

Molly thinks Oda-Mae is trying to scam her, until Sam tells her to tell Molly "Ditto," his answer to Molly's "I love you" and making a penny crawl up the door into Molly's hand. This leads to a weird scene in which Sam possesses Oda-Mae in order to kiss Molly one more time. Eventually, Oda-Mae goes to the bank and with Sam's help, scams them out of the $4M that (SPOILER ALERTS) Carl had been stealing all along (making her to donate the check to a church shelter in a particularly funny scene) and lays a trap to save Molly from the murderous Carl. With his murder avenged and Molly safe, Sam can move on, but not before materializing for one last ectoplasmic kiss.

There is a lot to like about Ghost, despite its often hokey romance. The special effects (especially the shadowy figures that drag people off to their unsavory rewards) are quite good for a pre-CGI film and then there's the sexy early scene that had women all over America running out to buy pottery wheels:

But it's Goldberg's comedic performance as Oda-Mae that makes Ghost so eminently watchable. She's hilarious here, and her Academy Award makes up for her snub for 1985's The Color Purple. Of course, the hopeless romantic in me always get suckered in by the love story. And Swayze wasn't too hard on the eyes, either.

Recently, Ghost was adapted into a musical which is still running in London's West End, but fared less successfully on Broadway, despite some amazing stage effects by illusionist Paul Kieve and new songs from Eurythmics' Dave Stewart and Glen Ballard:

Ghost  has become (for better or worse) a modern classic and I always find myself stopping to watch when I come across it while flipping through channels on my TV. If you've never seen it, it's certainly worth watching. If you have seen it, it's certainly worth seeing again. Especially if you're a hopeless romantic.

More, anon.
Prospero