I Can See!

Picked up my new glasses this afternoon. I plan on stretching out in bed in a little bit and watching some TV while I fall asleep. A luxury I've had to do without the past couple of weeks. And if a certain dog makes the mistake of chewing up this pair you can be sure you'll find his bloody carcass dangling from my fire escape.

I'm trying to make good use of my time off while I search for a new position. So sometime last week I got an e-mail offering an 8 week "boot camp" training course designed to challenge you physically, and hopefully in my case, help me drop a couple of pounds of ice cream fat. Plus, this particular offer came with a generous 1/2 off the training price for people with HIV. Is there no end to the benefits of being ravaged by this virus? Apparently not.

So even though I really can't afford the $25 per session fee right now, I couldn't resist signing up. It just means I can't really do any gratuitous shopping and no thrift stores for the duration. Come to think of it I may have made a bad deal.

At any rate, yesterday was the first session and now I can barely walk. My upper body isn't that sore but my abs are tender and my legs are like two sand filled sacks dangling from my waist. It's all I can do to shuffle in to the kitchen for a bowl of mint chocolate chip.

Cool Tech Restaurant & Alpha Dog

Intriguing news of a new Asian-fusion restaurant/lounge freshly opened in London. Inamo features projectors built in to the ceiling above 2,4 and 6 top tables. Customers have interactive touch panels to order food and drinks, and can change their E-cloths (gag) to one of seven available choices, as well as scroll through the menu. Each interactive table is capable of running games and ordering up taxi service. The waiters apparently answer questions and coddle technoboobs.



I took Riley to Madison Square dog run Sunday morning. He had a fantastic time running and wrestling with the other pooches. I did have to repeatedly pull him off of a Schnauzer he had become enamored with and couldn't stop with the Humpty-Hump. He is still humping, particularly when he gets over stimulated, but he generally doesn't bother the little dogs anymore, which was what was freaking out other owners. We had been there well over 1/2 hour and I had taken up a space on a wrap-around tree bench while Riley walked around and mostly sniffed some butt.

At some point a pair of long-haired Labs had come in, and after taking the obligatory sniff, Riley opted to assume the position on one. At which point the other dog's owner, a seemingly grown man at least my age, suddenly started grabbing Riley to throw him off while he screeched like a woman: NOOOOOO! MY DOG IS AN ALPHA DOG!!! HE WILL ATTACK!!

Seriously. Those were his exact words and he practically wailed them.

He didn't hurt Riley and all I said was "wow". Everyone sort of stopped and stared at the man while he regained his composure. Riley had no idea anything had occurred so as calmly as could be, but with an appropriate hint of sarcasm I called him over:

"Come here, Riley. You don't want to upset the Alpha Dog." Some of the other owners snickered and one woman called Riley over to give him a pat and re-assure him:

"You didn't do anything wrong."

The crazy screechy dog man muttered something under his breath, and I hung out with Riley for an extra 10 minutes just to aggravate him further. Had I thought of it at the time I would have walked over without a word and peed on him.

I'm the Alpha Dog that will attack.

AIDS Vigil

Here's a photo I don't think I ever put up. It's a shot from an AIDS vigil during Gay Pride week in 2006. There was a gospel choir and memorial in the middle of Sheridan Square before a candelight march down Christopher St. to the waterfront.

Apropos Of Nothing

As I mentioned previously, I signed up tonight to take a speaking commitment at a Gay-A detox group out of a local hospital. It's two weeks from tomorrow so I have plenty of time to obsess about it and convince myself I will stink it up.

I also broke down and ordered a new pair of glasses, even though I really can't afford them. Cujo decided to demolish my reading glasses one night last week, and by reading glasses, I mean the pair I need to get out of bed in the morning and find my feet. Blind as a bat I am without them and I don't always feel like putting in my lenses first thing. Plus, I like to put my glasses on at the end of the night before bed to watch TV and rest my eyes. So I juggled some credit while I have any left and ordered a replacement. They wanted to charge me over $600 until I explained I needed glasses to be able to get up in the middle of the night and pee, and I didn't require glasses with laser beam stud finders and a built in GPS navigation system that will also Google up a restaurant reservation and start your car. I ended up escaping with a $240 tab and I feel lucky for it.

Earlier this week I sent my mom a couple of pictures. One was of Riley, just so she could see what he looked like, and the other was a shot I had taken a few years ago of my brother and neice. It was at sundown along the rocks of a small town waterfront. They are partly in shadow and my brother has his arm around my neice. There's a single boat off in the distance and a little duck in the water next to them. I absolutely love it, and that's all that really matters. Still, I wasn't so sure my mom or anyone would see what I did. So I was strangely thrilled when my mom genuinely thanked me for the picture and gushed:

"You could take pictures professionally, I think."

I realize that's my mom talking, but she's not given to random bursts of encouragement. So to my ears it was a ringing endorsement. And it's not lost on me that even at my advanced years, apparently a compliment and approval from my mommy still can make me feel good all day.

Saturday Morning

A rare moment of calm here at From The Ashes HQ. The TV isn't on nor the radio, there are church bells ringing 11 am somewhere downtown. Mr. Riley is napping in the sun that is spilling across my bed, as he patiently waits for his morning walk and some food.

I've been actively looking for work, not counting on my previous employer to ever get their shit together enough to re-open. I am still in contact with them however, as I have some court appearances to make in response to the summonses they were hit with back in August. Even though I'm not technically responsible for any of it, some of the summonses were written directly to me, in order to ensure that they were answered. I guess that worked. So I have a court appearance in two weeks and another in November. That should be it.

The job search is tedious, and with the economy in the toilet it's kind of tricky. The jobs haven't completely dried up, but hiring has slowed. It's an inevitable fact of life that people need to eat and go out in New York so there will always be a need for people to run the nightclubs and restaurants. It's also true that right now, people are vary wary of just quitting their jobs with nothing to fall back on. And there have been many reports of new venues scrapping their openings or scaling back the size. This makes my job search more difficult. I'm at a point in my career where I can't really take any old restaurant job. I've sort of specialized, and pigeonholed myself, as someone who runs fairly large, very high volume venues. I need a lot of activity and the chance to multi-task, to work in different areas and have a lot of responsibilities. Otherwise I get bored, then crabby, then pretty apathetic. A little 80 seat restaurant in Hell's Kitchen that gets 10 tables for lunch then a really busy theater rush is not a challenge for me and not a job that I would be successful in for very long.

I've been going to a lot of Gay-A meetings while I've been off. A lot. Not that I feel particularly like I would drink, but I read a great book recently by David Carr called The Night of the Gun. It's a pretty good read not just about addiction and recovery but also about memory, and how an individual's recollection of the time and severity of any particular event can be colored, and frequently remade, to suit that person's emotional or psychological needs. In any case, Mr. Carr relates on more than one occasion that it's never a good idea for an alcoholic to spend too much time alone. An alcoholic with only himself to be with is hanging out in a very bad neighborhood. That's paraphrasing, but it's the idea. So I go to several Gay-A meetings every week instead of one or two. I make sure I raise my hand to talk often. I'm also looking for a new sponsor, admittedly not very hard but I'm looking. And I'll be speaking at a detox meeting at one of the local hospitals, possibly as early as Monday.

Beyond that, I've been spending a lot of time hanging out again in parks and the dog runs. I'm working out regularly and I think I lost about 5 pounds. I never worry too much about actual weight, more the appearance, and the appearance is still pretty flabby. I've taken to comparing myself to other men that seem to be close in age to me and I feel like I'm somewhere in between ridiculously overweight, and in good shape for my age. I would certainly like to move towards the good shape side, but at least I don't have back hair and my underwear fits. Seriously, what's up with the ripped up saggy drawers when you pass 45?

Shits N' Giggles

A literal video re-creation of the classic 80's a-ha video Take on Me. Pretty funny.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Indestructible My Ass

Here is a picture of the "virtually indestructible" rubber dog bone I bought for Riley. I gave it to him around 3:00 this afternoon and snapped this picture around 7:30. This is after I took it from him twice to give him a break and also took him out for a walk. So I would say he was working on it for two hours, tops. Fortunately, the checkout at Petco scanned it for a much cheaper price than it was supposedly selling for, or I'd be really pissed instead of simply dismayed that my dog is obviously Bionic. Which is totally cool, as I was always running around the neighborhood as a young gay-let imagining how much I would love to be Jaime Sommers, and of course, I always wanted my own Max.





UPDATE: Steve, the first part of that video post is indeed from the original Bionic Dog episode. Jaime finds out that Max is in a research hospital where Dr. Rudy Wells informs her that Max is rejecting his bionics. In reality, he has a traumatic fear of fire and is also depressed being stuck in a cage. Sensing this, Jaime busts Max out of his cage and they jump out the window and across the field for a super slo-mo bionic run. This is the origin of my desire for a bionic dog. And I am completely embarrassed to admit I didn't have to look any of this up.

U.S.A.! U.S.A.!

CDC says 1.1 million Americans infected with HIV.

Go Team!

The CDC estimated that about one in five -- 232,700 of the 1.1 million people infected with the human immunodeficiency virus that causes AIDS -- did not know they were infected.

What's The Point Of A Congressional Mandate?

The Department of Homeland Security announces "streamlined" waiver applications for HIV+ travelers wishing to enter the US. This despite a congressional order to remove HIV as a barrier to travel.

- via Immigration Equality:

Three months after Congress voted to repeal the ban on HIV-positive travelers to the U.S., the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) announced yesterday that it has issued regulations which purport to “streamline” the waiver application process for HIV-positive short-term visitors. The move comes nearly two years after President Bush directed the agency to streamline the process and fails to follow Congress’ mandate to end the ban.

.The timing of these regulations is deeply troubling.

.In July, Congress issued a bipartisan message to this Administration – remove HIV as a barrier to travel and immigration. Instead of simply ending the HIV travel ban, the administration is again treating HIV differently from any other medical condition.

.Under the new rules, a short-term traveler must meet twelve stringent criteria that impose unnecessary burdens on HIV-positive travelers and continue to stigmatize those living with HIV. Some criteria are inconsistent with current medical knowledge of HIV transmission and treatment.

.Additionally, a traveler who avails him- or herself of the waiver must give up the right to apply for a green card from within the United States – even if he or she marries a U.S. citizen. By DHS’s own account, the “streamlining” provided by this rule simply shaves off eighteen days in processing time by allowing Department of State consular officers to make decisions on waivers without sending them to DHS for approval.

.We are on the eve of lifting this ban once and for all. Why is the Administration setting new waiver requirements in stone now? The time has come for this Administration to finish the job that Congress started this summer. It’s time to lift the HIV ban.

Now That I'm Sick I Feel Better

No wonder I was so run down and out of sorts the last couple of days. Turns out I caught a cold. I woke up yesterday before my dental appointment with a scratchy throat. I assumed I had been snoring, but it stayed with me well in to the afternoon and as the day went on my head clogged up and I started spiking a fever. Today I have a cough and chest congestion and I've had a fever off and on all day.

But here's the thing, I actually feel better. Now that I know I'm sick I don't feel all worn out and old, just ill. And that makes me feel better.

Speaking of not feeling good, here's a sobering look at something a lot of people jam down their throats far too often. A nutritionist/wellness consultant (?) has put up this picture:



The McDonalds burger on the right (off the paper) is a 2008 burger bought for this photograph. The burger on the left was also bought at McDonalds ... 12 years ago !! It was not preserved in anything other than a plastic sandwich container. There is no mold, no degrading of the bun and no change in the burger other than a reported "odd smell". That's because McDonalds really isn't food. It's a collection of chemicals shaped and treated to resemble food. And it's no damn good for you.