Preface to “Love is Everything”

When my boyfriend, Britton, moved to SanFrancisco from Palo Alto, CA with his best friend, Mark (though he would prefer to be referred to as Marq), they found a great house on Herman Street. This house was directly behind the SF Mint and was a pre-earthquake survivor that had been built in 1906. It was a classic “painted lady” if painted ladies were old, worn out women with greyish crackling skin.

Marq and Britton agreed to rent the middle floor of this amazing mansion despite the inch or two of dirt and the outrageous collection of paintings, furnishings that covered every square inch of wallspace in the place. Their new landlord, Charles, was a typical Southern Gentlemen that lived on the third floor and was fond of more that occasional large glass of sherry. He wore the uniform of his day (the one-piece jumpsuit that while clean and pressed still hinted to it’s 1950’s origins). He was a kind, funny, old man with a particularly young spirit.

Britton chose the back bedroom with it’s own attached bathroom, just off the kitchen. Since I was living in squalor (having moved into the apartment of my 19-year old, Greek-Itlaian, ballet dancing boyfriend when he skipped town), the place was a welcome change to the borrowed matress on the floor that I shared with who knows how many bugs and bacteria.

Still, the house needed a lot of work and Britton and Mark only had enough time to get all fo their possessions into the house before they were off to New York for the big pride March where they had the huge flag that everyone marched with. It was a big deal and they were really excited. I, however, was left alone in this mansion with boxes piled to the ceiling, dirt everywhere and just enough crack to keep me awake.

So I decided that my goals in their absence would be two-fold: first I was going to make Britton’s room into a beautiful place to live. Second I was going to program myself to like Mark and Britton’s favorite artist: Jane Siberry.

The first part was hard labor. I had to scour the shower (which had at least an inch of mold in it). I had to paint the walls beige (a nice change from the dirty, greasey grey that was there to start). and I had to help Charles finish a project he had started some time back. He was putting in smoked glass windows (about 10 feet tall, 4 of them across the back wall). It was a mess and it was going to take a lot of work and provided me a lot of time to accomplish goal number 2.

I listened to Jane whenever I was working on the bathroom or rooml, but I just wasn’t getting it. She had a “pretty” voice, but her lyrics were so quirky that I couldn’t really get past them. I mean who wants to hear a story about two old people who have grown to love their table and how much better it was than having kids. I got the symbolism, but I didn’t get her message. Of course, I memorized the first and second albums (though I am not sure they were her first and second, they were the first and second albums I grabbed from the stack)

But then something happened. I had been out the night before and managed to drink myself into a stupor. I came home and passed out in the bedroom and woke up in a fright, not knowing where I was or what was going on. When I got myself together and started to work on the room, I was really depressed and lonely. I was broken down and miserable and the manual labor of painting these 20 foot tall prison-grey walls seemed ample punishment for whatever horrible things I had done to deserve feeling this way. Why not add some more misery to the heap? So I pressed play on the CD expecting to labor through this artsy Canadian vocalists next album when, for the first time, I heard Jane Siberry .

It was her album “When I was a boy” and it had a couple of “hits” on it, so I figured it would be the safest Jane Siberry music to listen to in my indoctrination. What I didn’t know was that this quirky, fragile lady from Canada would have a message to deliver. A message that if you hear it, it makes everything so clear rather suddenly.

I was listening to this peculiar piece entitled “Love Is Everything” and though I agreed with her sentiment, I was honestly aching and in fear of the precarious position I was in. My relationship with Britton was difficult because I was a wreck and he was the pampered and spoiled “baby” of his family. He was undoubtedly attracted to me because I was a “bad boy”, which only fueled insecurity in our relationship. He was the only person I cared anything about at the time and if I had to spend the afternoon away from him, I would pine away for him or try to sleep or drink myself into a stupor. I withdrew from everyone and everything and clung desperately to him. So from my perspective, the only reason we were together was that I wouldn’t leave him alone. Coupled with sentiment from his best friend and roommate, Mark, I was more of a “boy toy” than a viable partner. In fact, there was some public discussion (to my ebarrasment) about whether I would be required to work around the house in nothing but a hard hat, toolbelt and workboots.

My fears ranged from the practical to the formidable. You see, the entire time that I clinged to Britton, I was terribly afraid most of all that I was doing so as a mechanism of my survival. Britton had none of the traits that anyone, especially myself, thought that I would be attracted to. Although he was beautiful and his body was amazingly sexy, he was clean-cut, boyish, and adorable. After my first male lover, I expected to die alone. If I ever risked the thought of having another lover, he was always a gruff, older man that was most likely bald, but hairy and drove a truck and smoked a cigar. Not an honors student in Political Science at SFState. So, how then was this possible? How could I be so head-over-heals in love with someone who was not anything like I expected? Well, as it turns out, “love Is everything” and when I finally heard the message from Jane Siberry, and I mean really heard the message, I broke down sobbing in tears, All alone in this huge 1906 mansion, imprisoned n my own self-hatred and in sorrowful acceptance that I deserved no love. I wretched for at least 20 minutes, hoping that I would give in to this struggle for breath and that I would just die there alone and it would all be over. I thought about my life and the people that would miss me and concluded that it was okay to die.

Just then, the phone rang for the first time since Britton had left. It was Britton and he was just calling to check in on me. It was just like Jane said, when I opened my eyes, terrified for the first time, I could see it…a candle or was it two…I wasn’t all alone and just then a part of me did die; while another part of me was just being born.

If anyone doubts the presence of Angels in the world today, I will gladly testify to their existence and cite this experience as solid proof that “Love is Everything” and that Angels are all around us. For this I am eternally grateful.

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The Blog-O-Sphere Needs a Manifesto Template

As I was sitting here discussing world politics (specifically the situation in the Middle East, Abortion, Gay Marriage, Stem Cell Research, etc.), I began to realize that it would be a good idea to explicitly declare my position on a number of topics. Furthermore, it would be nice if everyone had a similar means of declaration that could be standardized throughout blog-life.

A “Manifesto” template that used specific CSS TAGS to identify topics maintained on a central blog would be a terrific asset. I will be posting my positions shortly and may even try a crack at it.

Gnarles Barkely is Crazy, Bless Your Soul

Sometimes a video is so visually intriguing that you spend all of your time in awe of the effects–missing the association with it’s content. That was the case for me and the Gnarles Barkley video that I love: “Crazy”

http://www.virgin.net/music/musicvideos/gnarlsbarkley_crazy_hi.html

The horshach test imagery relates directly to the song title and contents, but I didn’t even put it together until just now. So in case, you haven’t seen it check it out.

Astrology (Science or Woo Woo)

In college I had the pleasure of studying Astrophysics under Dr. Culver at Colorado State University. Dr. Culver is a bit of an eccentric and admittance to his class is by invite only, so I was honored to be the only freshman in attendance.

Though there are several peculiar things about Dr. Culver (like when he wore a BRIGHT PURPLE Zoot Suit to class for a month after the movie Batman was released), he garners his biggest celebrity from the fact that every year he and his wife do the talk show circuit. You see, besides being a fairly renowned Astrophysicist (basically meaning he has published books), his wife is an equally renowned Astrologer. How does this work?

Well, in my opinion, and I am going to be brief, Astrology is a social science. The orbit of the planets can be mathematically predicted, and their gravitational effects on us can be computed. But that’s not enough.

Rather than having some psychic power or some lesbian-esque insight into the natural tendencies of our species to act a certain way depending on the position of the planets, I believe that using history as a guideline, we can apply the tenets of the social sciences to make Astrology a science.

If you look historically at the number of arrests made after a full moon or right before a full  moon, you can see that there is a significant increase. In fact, to go further, you can evaluate the kinds of arrests made around the full moon and you will see a definite pattern as well, historically.

So it is safe, in my opinion, to say that the full moon has an actual social effect on our species. So why isn’t it just as likely that the other planets have a similar if not less notable effect on us?

I hope to do some research to show that people are in fact not only affected by the full moon, but that they are affected by cumulative exposure to the cycles of the moon. If I can prove this, than the foundation of Astrology seems perfectly sound to me. If you can show that a person’s life is not predetermined by the positions of the planets in their lives, but rather has an effect on each person’s life, then it is a matter of reaching a concensus on the specifics of those effects.

I am enclosing a quote from what I consider to be a responsible “read” of the planets…not a lot of interpretation or woo-woo here, just an application of social, historical data to current celestial data:

The Moon enters gracious Libra at 1:06 pm, reminding us to consider the
needs of others as we make decisions for ourselves. Libra’s key planet
Venus was activated yesterday by expansive Jupiter. However, we may
feel a constrictive backlash today as sweet Venus forms a cooperative
sextile with stable Saturn, giving us the discipline we need. Our core
values become more important as long-term commitments rule the heart.
Changes may come slowly now, but they can alter the foundations upon
which we build the future.

Hello Whirled….

Rather than making some outrageous claim or flippant remark regarding my participation in this forum, I thought it would be best to tell you a story in the hopes of introducing My Whirled View.

First, let me set the stage for you:

It's a warm Sunday evening in the South of Market area in San Francisco, CA around June, 1990. I was 20 years old and due to some unfortunate circumstances, I was homeless, jobless, penniless and strung out on drugs. I arrived at the LoneStar Saloon just up the street from the Eagle where my friend Danny and I had spent most of the day taking advantage of the Eagle's Sunday Beer Bust. The crowd consisted of about 20 guys with watermelon-shaped bellies, long unkempt beards and bushy eyebrows. Most wore ratty shorts and shirts with cut-off sleeves and flip-flops. This was a local "leather levi" bar and being young and adorable, Danny and I figured we could work out a couple of cocktails before heading to the next club to dance all night…typical Sunday.

We make our way to the back porch, one of the nicest parts of the Lone Star and Danny takes off to talk to someone he recognizes. Meanwhile, I lean up against the wall and wait…The guy next to me offers me a joint and I graciously pass–I didn't like any drug that had the potential to knock me out as easily as pot could. I passed the joint to the guy to my right and he passed as well. I figured this was a great way to open a conversation, so I asked, "You don't like pot either, huh?"

He replied something to the effect of "I can't do it because of my work". Ambiguous enough, but sure, I'll bite.

"What do you do for a living, if you don't mind if I ask?" I said.

 "I'm a cop," the man replied.

I asked him why he didn't arrest everyone here and he explained that his job was to work with troubled youth…specifically with kids that were having problems with drugs…he helped them turn their lives around.

I didn't realize at that moment how telling his statement was.

He said, "Would you mind if I told you a story?"

"I would love to hear a story" I replied.

As he told me the title of the story, I felt completely focused as if the rest of the world ceased to exist. It was almost like in the movies when the wide-angle camera lens is shifted and the hallway becomes really, really long–only in reverse. For all I knew, at that moment, nothing else existed in the world besides this cop and I.

…and here's his story…

 The Wishing Tree

There once was a young prince who had been separated from his party during a hunt in the forest. He maintained his composure for quite a while as he searched the forest for any signs of the other boys. As the sun began to set, he was terrified and frantic calling out for anyone to help him. He didn't sleep or sit still for even a minute that night.

When the sun finally rose the next day, the young prince was weak and exhausted and he was sure that this was the worst thing he had ever experienced. As he wandered aimlessly, delerious from hunger and certain that he would not live through another night…he happened upon a clearing.

For the first time in probably 30 hours, he felt a rush of hope and a sense of happiness flowed through him. In the middle of this clearing in the forest, amidst a field of the most luscious wildflowers and the greenest grass, was a solitary tree the likes of which he had never seen. It's huge trunk and long branches provided the only shade in this beautiful glen. He was so enamoured by the beauty of this meadow that he decided to put off his search for home so he could relax at the base of the tree, in the shade, amongst the flowers. And as he rested, he drifted off to sleep: a sleep more restful than he had ever experienced before.

The young prince awoke to something tickling his nose and as he brushed it away, he realized that he felt happy and secure and unafraid for perhaps the first time in his life. He stood up and stretched and with a great smile on his face, he surveyed the meadow and noticed that it was much, much bigger than he had first thought.

He saw a stream not to far away and as he approached it, he thought to himself: "what a beautiful place this would be for a castle like my father's only bigger…" and to his surprise, there was a castle here, just where he thought it should be…but why hadn't he seen it before?

Convinced that he was just sleepy, though he felt more rested than ever, he approached the grand castle and entered it. To his dismay, it was completely empty. "No, no,"  he said, "this place should have gold and red tapestries everywhere," and they appeared just like he imagined. Not realizing what was happening, he continued through the castle and room by room everything he wished for would appear.

When he came across the grand dining hall, his stomach growled and he realized that he had not eaten in …days had it been? Suddenly, all of his favorite foods appeared along the banquet table and he began gorging himself on the most delicious food ever.

Free from the nagging of his stomach, he became aware of another pain he had noticed. His heart was aching and he realized that he was alone. He imagined a another prince with whom he would have passionate conversation and for whom he would be helplessly in love. And sure enough, the man appeared and all was well, in fact, everything was better than it had ever been…

When suddenly a shot rang though the young prince. A blistering white bolt of panic started in his chest and before he could stop the thought…it came out:

Everything is so wonderful, I am so happy….but…wait, there must be some dragon just outside that is going to take this all from me. And as with everything else the prince had believed, a dragon appeared and took it all away from him.

———————

 As I wiped the tears from my eyes, I realized for the first time since the story had started that I was at the LoneStar and yet it somehow just didn't matter. I turned around to find Danny to tell him about this amazing cop that I had just met and he just laughed at me.

"You are so high," he said, "there's noone there."

When I turned around and the copy was nowhere to be seen, I was sure that had just left to use the restroom. I ran after him and although I asked probably everyone in the bar if they knew him or had seen him, or knew where he went…nobody could help. To this day, Danny thinks that I imagined the entire thing, but I know different.

All I can figure is this: The man that I saw that night, the cop who was charged with helping kids who had lost their way because they were strung out on drugs, was telling me the truth. It was my arrogance that led me to believe that he was a man and not an Angel sent to let me know that I had lost my way.

Five days and nearly 20 hits of acid later, I had a moment of perfect clarity and managed to call my parents to let them know that I had a drug problem and needed their help.