avenueq.jpgWe saw Avenue Q the first night, Friday. It was one of the choices for the football tournament. The other might have been Hairspray, can’t remember. Aside from being underwhelmed at the rest of the teams’ turn-out for Broadway (I remember saying to one of the hosting committee, “But we’re in New York for God’s sake! What wouldn’t be more gay than to see a Broadway musical while playing in a flag football tournament?”), I was completely enthralled seeing Broadway theatre on Broadway on a Friday night. I don’t know why I was so much more stoked seeing this musical than seeing The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee a couple years ago in its first, early run. Perhaps it’s because a good friend had played Avenue Q’s soundtrack for me about ten years ago and “The Internet Is For Porn” stuck with me all that time.

So, there I was, enthralled with the mock-Sesame Street staging and out comes Princeton. And his puppeteer was completely hot. Distractingly so. To the point that I started crafting methods to dump BF for a few and meet Howie for some reenactment of the sex scene in the show. I’ve always had a thing for shorter guys (5’7″-5’9″) and I’ve always had a thing for musical theatre, so Howie was definitely hitting my buttons. Plus, his performance was tremendous. Shit, what Avenue Q (and the rest of the shows that weekend) made clear is that Broadway really IS the place to hear a performance. The talent level is first rate, bar none. I’ve seen various national tours in Detroit (naturally), stagings in Toronto, Chicago, and San Diego and they do not compare. Perhaps it is the supersaturation of theatre people, but I thought the ticket price ($100 per) was worth it.

I also didn’t realize how deeply ingrained my affection and memories for Sesame Street and The Muppets are. I giggled like a four-year-old at nearly every little thing that was being said/done, gibbering/whispering, “Oh, that’s just like when on Sesame Street they did…” (Aside: ITunes allows me to reminisce by downloading the musical in five minutes and to listen now. Isn’t our modern world just wonderful? :) ) The has-been actor cameos, the mix of muppet and adult human interaction, bubble-gum tunes, the interjected educational commercials “com-mit-ment”, the vocabulary lesson, “Schadenfreude” (for which I chortled as soon as it started having a certain affection for German sensibilities), the complete reversal of morals through the Bad Idea Bears “You should kill yourself!” LOL, just a perfect pastiche!badideabears.jpg

My Israeli BF needed a little debriefing after the show to explain my nearly psychotic, good humor. I had to explain how sharply transgressive it was to have a muppet with chest hair, why singing boxes were brilliant, and why I wanted to purchase something with Bad Idea Bears plastered on it. It’s a little embarrassing when you’re having a transcendent, religious experience by yourself. ;)

It’s very easy to do the little, microblogging on Twitter without feeling compelled to write a big time-consuming blog post. It’s been a busy week with lots of work and I’m very pleased to hear that I will be taking a few days off this week. It should give me a breather and I really should capitalize it and not just veg out. I really should plan at least part of that time so that I won’t be wining about it later. Sounds like a plan.

Lost

Been too busy to watch and to be honest I’m losing some steam. I don’t know why. It could be that I know that I have 30 more episodes to catch up on all the questions. It could be that Sun is being a bit of a hard-ass right now with Jin and I don’t like that. It could be that I wish Jack/Sawyer/Kate would just get it over with. I will say that the flashbacks are still compelling. For the most part I haven’t reached the point of saying, “I don’t care about that! What happens now?” We’ll see…

Career: “What’s Your Message?”

I came across a couple of thoughtful articles by Steve Pavlina, a blogger with a brain and a soul. Sometimes he’s a little too California for me and his cheerful optimism grates my frosty, dark, Northern composure, but then if I just shut up and read his articles I find that he has a lot of good things to say and consider.

Case in point: our use of the word “career”, how overdetermined its usage is, and how defining it for ourselves usually leads to some soulessness. He says that we tend to be instructed on what our careers should be by a bottoms-up method in which we look at our physical/mental strengths and match those up to whatever set of strengths reside in an occupation. The top-down method employs the “What turns you on? What’s your core passion?” roster of questions to find another set of profiles that reside in some occupation. What I love about Pavlina is that he is quick about avoiding false dichotomies: he says that both methods have their strengths and weaknesses so he marries them in an 80/20 top-down/bottoms-up split.

I strongly sympathized with his assessment of his wife’s difficulties as a secretary. Pavlina’s wife, Erin, could type 90+ words / min, and that skill was overplayed in career considerations. “Oh, you can type fast? Why don’t you be a secretary?” Being a secretary never addressed her passion to be and  exhibit being compassionate. Likewise, I have a great deal of technical skill but working in an environment where emotions are taboo (engineers) is what left me cold at Ford. It was a stultifying experience, to put it mildly.

In his other article, he talks about how often we look only at our career’s label and its functional responsibilities and not recognize how poor and flat that view is. That view doesn’t really consider the person do the work and their multi-faceted motivations for doing a job. “Oh, you’re an attorney. You must like doing legal paperwork.” If your motivation and passion in being an attorney is to negotiate peacefully that passion is completely lost in the appellation, “attorney”. Pavlina suggests reframing the label, maybe just for yourself to something relevant to your motivations and passions, in the case above, “Peacebringer.” Yeah, I know, it sounds a little fruity to me too. But I too see and feel so many of us who get completely depressed talking about their careers or jobs. We seem to wait for some sort of put-down since we are obliged to hate our job. It is the appropriate and fashionable thing to do. God forbid that we might more plainly state what joy we do derive from our work.

So, I’ve been thinking about what are my real passion is. As Avenue Q, might ask, What is my Purpose? I think it’s to be a counselor. What form that takes, I have no idea, but I need to try harder to express that passion to counsel and advise. I like doing it. I like helping people sort out their feelings about whatever it is. Now, I just need to be mindful of that drive and to build outlets to express it.

UgBetty1I’m sooo excited about tonight! Well, to be fair, I get excited and giggly every time I know there’s an Ugly Betty episode coming up. How will Betty crash the wedding? What vile repartee will Wilhelmina, Mark, and Amanda banter about? How will Betty handle the anguish of dating Henry? It’s the telenovella without the Spanish! And totally gay! And authentic! :)

The last episode brought up some memories that I had wanted to write down. Last month, I joined my BF’s gay flag football tournament in New York. I made it clear that I was only “on the team” to accomplish a sole purpose, i.e. totally slut it up and attend a musical every day (3 days). Mission accomplished (I got in the film The Good Night as well). So, I saw Avenue Q (Friday evening), The Drowsy Chaperone (Saturday matinee), and The Color Purple (Sunday matinee). Collectively, it was one of the most succulent, wonderful things this poor little Midwestern homo could do. More on each soon…

heather.jpgI know I’m not in any imminent threat of death, but it’s a little unheimlich/eerie when you note an acquaintance and someone of your age having died. I had been involved in enough queer activism to have met Heather McAllister a number of times over the years when she lived in Michigan. I knew that she had worked at Triangle Foundation. She had a sharp intellect and a positively wicked pair of cat-eye specs that I thought were her trademark long before Lisa Loeb. She also had a HUGE bottom. It never bothered her. In fact, what always touched me about Heather was her conscious choice to make it YOUR issue rather than hers. She left Michigan to capitalize on her radical view and created a big-girl burlesque revue in California. And as has happened for so many Michigan emigres, I thought she would go on to a fabulous life in San Francisco and be happy.

While casually listening to my NPR commie-pinko feed, I heard Leonard Nimoy speak of his new Full Body Project. I didn’t know that he gone on to become a photographer, good for him. He talked of the daunting task of taking pictures of very heavy women, good for him. He spoke of meeting Heather and being inspired by her performance work as both a political and artistic effort, fine, fine, nice to see a Michiganian find some success. He then said that she had died. My eyes bugged out. I stopped the feed and started searching for her frantically online. How could she be dead? She was vital, smart, beautiful and motivated to make real change in American culture. She was in California living the good, queer American dream. And she was young! Rather, she was my age! That didn’t make sense at all! She had so much to do! She had died of ovarian cancer this past February. I hadn’t heard anything here back home. And I had felt no sign of her passing as I imagined great ladies might, silly git. For me, it was the divine whispering, so softly, I will cut all threads–even yours–without your assent.

Emotions

Now that I’ve found Swan Station and the Tailies, I find myself even more frustrated by how far I am behind from all my friends. There’s so much I want to ask but I know they’re going to be all, “Oh, yeah… Just keep watching!” I’m losing my humor and really just want to be CAUGHT UP! :) I pretty much love everyone except Locke. I’m not believing that his faith in the Island is concordant with what he’s seen. I guess I would expect a touch more doubt. I was touched when Sharon died. I will miss her. Mister Eko is more stereotypically written than I usually would expect in a Lost character. Clare is being a twit with Charlie.

Musings

  • The Numbers: I’ve been thinking about them a lot. 23 survivors in the tail section 43 survivors in the fuselage (42+1).
  • Is it just me or should it be more rare for Ana Lucia and Jack to both work for their parents? As BF said, “Everybody has Father issues!” Amen.
  • Is Sun going to be a Dominatrix? Is there going to be a three-way or what? ;)
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