Beauty Queens

I can't get enough of the Carrie Prejean sex tape saga! As you may remember, Prejean voiced her opposition to gay marriage during the Miss USA pageant, later claiming her strongly-held religious beliefs caused her defeat. Donald Trump rightly refused to fire her for her opinions, but pageant officials let her go when Prejean's new role as evangelical darling interfered with her Miss California duties. She later abruptly dropped a suit she filed against the pageant and its officials after a solo sex tape made for a former boyfriend surfaced.

This incident reminded me of another disgraced beauty queen, Vanessa Williams, the first African-American Miss America who resigned in 1984 after Penthouse published artsy nude photos of her engaging in lesbian activity. In subsequent years, beauty and talent triumphed over scandal. Who could envision that 25 years later Williams would host the daytime Emmy Awards, performing a musical number that humorously featured a CGI-enhanced lesbian kiss and a lyrical tribute to Ellen DeGeneres.



And in other beauty queen news, Miss England had to relinquish her crown after punching Miss Manchester over a gladiator. You can't make this stuff up!

Google Voice

Long time no post! I had gigs and work travel yada yada. But one item I attempted over the past couple of months was upgrading my cellular communications. I bought a cheap unlocked QWERTY phone so I can keep up with my smart-phoning verbose texting friends without getting roped into a lengthy contract. Then I set up an account with Google Voice, which promises to transcribe your voicemails into text messages--a useful feature to have if you receive calls at crowded bars. However the messages are kind of cryptic, like foreign spam. Here are some samples:

Yeah. Hey, Bev. It's, Matt actually get the heritage and get them tonight. I thought of. We're supposed to be so give me a call back. I am now back. I'm just leaving you know where you normally work actually, so all B, E, A, Pensacola parking about half an hour. I hope you know. I think that for traffic. Our so. Anyway, hope to see you tonight. Let me know if it's search of January. Okay, bye bye

Hi Bev. It's, Paul scale unfeeling at assist you with Lee and attic. Leah rambunctious tonight and I hope you're enjoying our night Cabela's.

Hey, I have a chat emptied. Hope responding that trap.

Thankfully I am not paying for this service!

Ignore Everybody!!

A lot of people asked me if I have ever considered doing music full time. The answer is yes, with varying degrees of realistic expectation. In my twenties I was in a band that collectively fantasized we would eventually get signed and quit our day jobs. The odds of this were as slim as winning at powerball. When I reached my thirties, I confronted the reality that whatever ship I was waiting for was not coming. I managed to teach myself html to at least get a web job, which provided some skill overlap with music promotion. A few years later, when my living expenses were low, I worked part-time in a recording studio and toyed with the idea of music as a full-time gig via production work and remixes. However, I quickly tired of expending so much creative energy--more than I have ever expended at a day job--on other people's projects because it left me with no inspiration for my own. Plus, I saw the extent to which my full-time musician friends, for whom I have the utmost respect and admiration, had to make ends meet by playing wedding gigs and following the directives of philistines.

I decided I was much better off spending my days doing internet advocacy work for causes I believe in and not relying on music to pay the bills. Although I do make about 15% of my income from music, this consists of royalties paid on tracks I have produced without commercial intent and later licensed. Some people might characterize this as "selling out" but I consider the 9 to 5 part of my day more of a compromise--one that I am willing to make for the sake of financial stability so I can feel less regimented and inhibited when I work on music.

I recently read a book that articulated a no-nonsense route to achieving fulfillment in creative pursuits. Unlike other books in which the author is able to reject the humdrum life of a working stiff and miraculously embrace a world of abundance and self-fulfillment (by writing self help books), Ignore Everybody: and 39 Other Keys to Creativity is saturated with common sense, helpful creative hints, and powerful yet restrained proclamations that don't call for faith in the universe so much as independent thought, self-reliance, and hard work. Hugh MacLeod has made a career out of drawing acerbic observations on the backs of business cards-- a practice that began while working as a copywriter in New York. He sees no disgrace in having a day job, in fact he reasons a day job can co-exist with a creative pursuits, and protect art from being diluted or exploited, because once an artist accepts money for their art they have relinquished control: "Art suffers the moment other people start paying for it. The more you need the money, the more people will tell you what to do. The less control you will have. The more bullshit you will have to swallow. The less joy it will bring. Know this and plan accordingly." He also disparages scenesters who are looking for shortcuts while their true artist counterparts are working at home in solitude. He has practical advice for writer's block: "If you have something to say, then say it...Trying to create when you don't feel like it is like making conversation for the sake of making conversation."

The book read like he was writing directly to me! But I suspect his message resonates with lots of folks that got into the arts for diverse reasons and ended up in a lifelong romance that many appreciate but fewer seem to understand.

Fascination Street

The bungalow-lined street that runs behind my apartment building to Georgia Avenue appears standard issue Montgomery County at first glance: proliferation of Priuses? Check! Lawns graced with Obama/Biden signs? Check! Speed bumps? Check! But my daily ¾ mile commute down Silver Spring Avenue has revealed its unique character. The kids are polite. The pets are friendly. The gardens are beautifully landscaped with flowers continuously in bloom. People of diverse countries of origin engage in spontaneous conversation. And most shocking of all, and in stark contrast to the denizens of my previous address, Thayer Avenue, the residents of Silver Spring Avenue say hello to me as I pass. As if this wasn't enough, the kids at the nearby elementary school write affirmations in chalk on the sidewalk such as “You are so smart!” and “Have a great day!” Oddly enough, crime novelist George Pelecanos lives nearby, but does not appear to derive inspiration from this locale, at least from what I have read of his work!

One World

When it come to portrayals in popular culture, from The Children's Hour to Basic Instinct and beyond, lesbians have generally been portrayed at best as doomed, and at worst obsessively deranged. So what a pleasant surprise to have not just one, but two television dramas in Spain featuring women in fulfilling romantic relationships that culminated in legally recognized gay weddings. Although the relationship on Hospital Central between Maca and Esther was disrupted by adultery and unplanned pregnancy, their passion triumphed over drama. On Los Hombres De Pacos, Pepa and Silvia, known as Pepsi, endured trials and tribulations on the way to the altar. But much to the chagrin of lesbians worldwide, Silvia was tragically shot and killed right after her wedding. Below is a video documenting global pleas for the return of Pepsi. Although I don't see how the writers can bring Pepsi back except through a bizarre plot twist given that the actress who plays Silvia left the show, it is touching to see how much this TV couple meant to so many lesbians worldwide.



Click here for a reminder of how Pepa and Silvia were in happier days, and keep in mind, this was aired on network television.

Crazy Cat Lady at the Crazy Quilt Festival

On Saturday I had the pleasure of spinning at the Crazy Quilt Music Festival in Greenbelt, MD, which is one of three U.S. cities built from scratch as part of the New Deal. I spun between musical acts for several hours, and then did a one and a half hour set accompanied by the Playa Del Fuego fire dancers. You can see video over at the ALP site.

Unfortunately the day of the gig I had to make a vet appointment for George because his third eyelid was protruding--a sign of illness in cats. Fortunately through the wonders of technology I was able to keep an eye on George during my gig. As you can see in the photo, I have a netbook next to my DJ laptop that was used to monitor petcam footage from my apartment. Despite being 13 miles away I was able to see that George was eating and drinking. His vet visit later in the week indicated that his CRF has advanced slightly, so I will need to start administering IV fluids once a week or so. He is doing much better now!

A Day That Will Live in Infamy

On June 22, 2009, nine people perished at a spot thousands of metro commuters pass through every day en route to work in DC. An inconvenient consequence is that red line commuting will be f*cked up for months to come. Despite being terminally early to gigs, I am typically late to work, and my tardiness has increased exponentially despite efforts to leave my apartment earlier and earlier in the week following the accident.

Initially I tried shuttle buses that were transporting commuters past Takoma Station. On the second day of red line dysfunction I got fed up of standing on a speeding vehicle, and sought the refuge of an empty 14th street bus at Takoma station. This was not a brilliant move from a time management perspective! I have also tried taking the red line to Fort Totten and then switching to the green line and back to red. This results in a one hour forty minute commute. I don't mind this prolonged travel time if I wind up in an exotic location, but this seems like a lot of trouble to go through just to sit in a windowless beige cubicle all day.

Fortunately one of my coworkers told me about the S9 Express. I can catch it at its first stop, 1.4 miles from my apartment. It definitely transports a very different demographic than I am accustomed to on Montgomery County buses! The typical rider wears a suit and works on their laptop or conspicuously reads the New York Times. Not that there is anything wrong with that!! I was FINALLY able to arrive to work on time on Friday, plus had a nice above-ground view of DC as the bus traveled through DC's Gold Coast and Mount Pleasant en route to my destination outside the National Geographic building. I think this will work for me until the red line is back on track.