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Dear Madonna:
I have a confession to make. It is a two-parter.
First, I am gay. This is not much of a confession, since you probably already know that. I think all the world knows that. It might have something to do with that “Richard Is A Big Homo” ad campaign I ran that one time.
Second, I have never given you a dime*. This would ordinarily not be much of a confession, either — after all, I’m sure there are many people who have never bought your albums or t-shirts or posters or items from your daughter’s clothing line, whatever it’s called. However, in light of Confession #1, it seems a little weird, no? Historically speaking, we Gays love you.
Anyway, I am telling you this because up until now, I had been holding out hope that you would one day knock my socks off and give the world something that I could not live without in my heavily curated collection of MP3s. But this morning, you posted the video for “Give Me All Your Luvin’ (Feat. M.I.A. and Nicki Minaj)“, and…well, did you really listen to that track before you released it? I mean, there’s good pop and there’s bad pop, and I think we both know what this is:
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Posted 03 February 2012
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At last week’s U.S. Conference of Mayors, nearly 80 of those in attendance voiced their support for marriage equality. In that number: mayors of places like Lima, Ohio and Hallandale Beach, Florida. New Orleans didn’t make the cut.
Now, I like Mitch Landrieu. I like him a lot. He’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever met, and in less than two years, New Orleans has seen more improvement than it did in its eight-year-long love/hate (but mostly hate) relationship with He Who Shall Not Be Named. But given the size of New Orleans’ LGBT population, you’d think Landrieu might be able to come out in support of marriage equality.
New Orleans has a huge gay base, and we’re surrounded by a warm and welcoming straight community (so long as you don’t count parts of Kenner). As a matter of fact, in a recent poll of travelers taken by American Airlines, New Orleans was named one of the world’s top 10 gay destinations, alongside London, New York, Tel Aviv, and Toronto.
Of course, I know Landrieu didn’t ride into office on a platform of LGBT rights. New Orleans’ queer community is so old and entrenched that gay rights might seem like a non-issue. But we’re here, we’re queer, and we would like some support, please. And let’s not make excuses about Louisiana’s state law forbidding gay marriage: mayors from Texas and Alaska and Michigan and Minnesota were on that list, and they’re in the same boat.
So I ask: Mayor Landrieu, where is the gay love?
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Posted 25 January 2012
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If you had told me four or five years ago that I’d soon be writing about cars, I would have laughed in your face. I would’ve taken your temperature. I might’ve even offered to buy you another drink.
Growing up, cars intimidated me. I was your stereotypical gay kid — the kind who preferred tennis, debate tournaments, and musical theatre to tinkering with a V8. My dad did his best to interest me in the workings of his Mustangs and F-150s, but I didn’t even want to learn how to change my own oil. I equated gearheads like my father and brothers with the jocks who sneered at me in high school, and I didn’t want anything to do with them.
When cars weren’t intimidating me, they were busy leaving me cold. I’ve never been much of a collector — in fact, apart from my lifelong passion for books, I’ve always been pretty ascetic — so when my brothers professed their undying love of Trans Ams and Buick Regals, I just shrugged and went about my business. I already had a ride that got me from Point A to Point B, so why would I lust after anything else? I guess I was born with the second noble truth of Buddhism pre-installed.
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Posted 18 January 2012
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When I was a kid, I wanted to be a novelist. Forget cowboys and doctors and lawyers and such: I wanted to be the Madeleine L’Engle of my generation.
This did not happen.
This did not happen because eventually I realized that I can do short stories and essays and the occasional one-act play, but I probably don’t have the ability/interest/desire to pull off a full-length work of fiction. Not a good one, anyway. So, I’ve left that to the people who know what they’re doing. Which is fine, because the world has enough half-assed novels, am I right?
Over time, blogging became my thing, my niche. I may not be great at it, but it gives me the opportunity to get the wordsmithing bug out of my system. I’d pretty much given up on writing a book at all, until my friends Elizabeth and Allison approached me about putting together a field guide for people who want to booze it up in New Orleans’ Vieux Carré.
Long story short: we drafted a proposal, found an agent, and the book is moving forward, with the working title, The French Quarter 100: A Drinking Companion to America’s Most Eccentric Neighborhood. Elizabeth, Allison, and I are writing it under the collective pseudonym “The League of Spirited Tipplers”. Jonno has graciously agreed to provide photographic support.
“Why the hell would you need to write a book like that?” you ask. “You can’t swing a cat without hitting a bar in the French Quarter. How hard could it be to find a decent drinking spot?”
Sugar, it is harder than you think.
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Posted 17 January 2012
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I conk out on the sofa at 2:00am, watching an obscure, animated film by Hayao Miyazaki on my laptop. The sound’s a little off, and the drawing is clunky, but the story is amazing. It just goes to show how far a good plot will get you.
A hundred yards away, at the bar on the corner, a girl sits nursing a beer. She’s about as old as the film I’ve been watching. She was bordering on drunk earlier, when her friends were buying rounds of champagne, but most of those friends are gone now — moved on to the French Quarter, or moseyed home, realizing they’d hit their limit. She’s not sure why she’s still here. It feels like she’s waiting for something to happen. It’s a new year, after all. Something should happen, right?
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Posted 01 January 2012
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Dear Madonna:
A scrapbook: a jumble of personal notes and other things I find interesting and/or sexy and/or appalling. I'm a gay guy from New Orleans, and I work in marketing, so there's an assortment of gay stuff and New Orleans stuff and marketing stuff, but there's no real "theme" here, so I wouldn't go looking for one if I were you.