Words and Musics: An Award From Mistress Maddie

So … Mistress Maddie, over there to A Day With The MistressBorghese, has seen fit to honor me with an award. It seems I am the “Queen of the Blogiverse”! I am the “Master Of The Internet”! I am the “Most Important Person Who Ever Liv—“

What? The Music and Words Award? Not The Queen of Something or Other??

Well … this is … nice … too.

So, let’s rip … when I’m asked if I play a musical instrument I always say “the radio” because, sadly, that’s the extent of my musical abilities, though I love music. I do, however, sing almost constantly — ask Carlos how I drive him crazy with my tunes. And, as I have said here on this blog thing before, I wake up singing, literally, every single day. And sometimes it’s a song I heard the day before, and other times it’s a song I haven’t heard since I was a child.

For example, this morning I woke up singing The Mills Brothers rendition of “You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You.” I probably first heard this tune at my grandmother’s house when I was a child and stored it way in my head until this morning when it came out. I don’t know how it works, or why, but the idea of waking up singing is a good thing.

I listen to everything, even some country — though I am not a fan of rap — so there isn’t much I don’t like, and not much I haven’t bought, and not much I haven’t sung in the shower; showtunes, blues, jazz, pop, rock, folk, reggae, classical, opera … I love Billie Holiday, Sting, Adele, Sammy Davis Jr., Idina Menzel, Vivaldi, Betty Buckley, The BoDeans, REM, U2, UB40, Wynonna Judd, Kelly Clarkson, James Taylor, Judy Garland, Puccini, The Gershwin’s, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Louis Armstrong, Johnny Cash, Sarah Vaughan, Aaron Tveit — whom I just recently discovered, kd lang and on and on I could go.

What does music mean to you? 

It means almost everything because music reminds me of where I was when … when anything happened. I can listen to music when I am sad or angry or depressed or happy or tired or just need a little something in the background.

And while I like the music, I am especially drawn to interesting lyrics that can tell a story or take me somewhere or make me think something I had never thought before.

A singer, and a song, that always gets to me … Lady Day.

What is your first music related memory? My father had reel-to-reel tapes of music he’d recorded, and boxes upon boxes of tapes filled with songs; the Boston Pops; Nancy Wilson; Sammy Davis Jr.; John Denver—side note, he went to high school with one of my aunts. My father played those tapes all the time; we had music at dinner almost every night and it was always something new; we good go from Arthur Fiedler to the soundtrack from Roots over a dinner, with everything in between. I remember a few years back I was in a store and there was that elevator-type music playing in the background and a lady in line ahead was squinting and thinking and wondering, and she finally said, aloud to no one in particular, “What song is this? Who used to sing this song?”

And I replied, “Vicki Carr. ‘It Must Be Him.’”

The lady told me I was too young to know that and asked how I knew. I said, because I’m a smart-ass, “I used to do my long program to this one.” Then I spread my arms and lifted a leg behind me as though ice-skating.

But I was right, because I’d heard that song when I was just a wee queerling.

What was the first album you ever purchased yourself?  To be honest — and why not? — I think it was a Diana Ross and the Supremes album. I am a huge Miss Ross fan.to.this.day. But then there was The Who; the Beatles; Simon and Garfunkel … and others to follow.

 What is the latest music you purchased? Adele’s latest was my last purchase. I don’t do “internet” music so I always buy an actual CD because, like a book, I like to hold it in my hand; I like the lyrics so I need to be able to read the songs as well as bust out singing ‘em.

What is the very last song you listened to before writing this post? Be honest!  Idina Menzel — you might know her as Adele Dazeem — singing a live version of “No Day But Today.”

Now, I am supposed to bestow this ward on some folks, but I’ve seen it all around the blog-dom, so I will just say that if you wanna share your music with us, take the questions and sing to us …

Now, before I go, this little award got me trolling YouTube and stumbling across some stuff … so I’m’a leave y’all with a little Sammy.

Davis Jr., that is.

Random Musings

We’ve been watching Black-ish on TV and finding it very funny, and very timely.

In light of the recent deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner at the hands of police, and the increased need for a discussion on race in America, the show has been talking race, making it funny, while making it thoughtful.

One particular joke this week was that Black people cannot be racist because, well, Black. And I’ve heard the same thing about The Gays.

Something to do with being discriminated against makes you unable to discriminate.

It ain’t true. Some of the biggest racist and homophobes are racists and gay folks.

Just sayin’.

Now during the episode of Black-ish, ABC ran a promo for a new show about an Asian family, with the all too funny jokes about how hard it is to say Asian names. It’s high-larious … not.

The show, sadly is called, Fresh Off The Boat; seriously.

Am I the only one who finds that title offensive? Howsabout a show about a Mexican family called Hopped The Fence or Swam The Rio Grande?

Nope, not funny either.

There has been talk about what might be the new LGBT battle now that marriage equality is sweeping the country, and most seem to think it will be ENDA; that it will be to protect LGBT Americans in all fifty states from being hired, evicted, denied housing or employment simply for being gay.

And, on the other side of that argument, comes the religious not-right, who want to be able to discriminate against The Gays because God. And so this week, a local ordinance making LGBT discrimination illegal in Fayetteville, Arkansas was repealed just months after it was enacted, thanks primarily to political activity by conservative religious leaders and the Duggar family—you know the TLC family that spits out a new child every year so they can have a TV show and spew their familial hate.

Now the HRC is going after TLC because of the Duggar's support, both financially, and vocally, to the repeal. But who cares about that? If the HRC convinces TLC to drop the Duggar’s they’ll still be supporting anti-LGBT causes.

I’d suggest we simply ask The Gays and The Gay friendlies to avoid TLC if they choose to air hate-mongers, and then turn our efforts towards enlightening those people in Fayetteville who bought into the hate.

Just sayin’. Don’t get angry, get to work.

I saw this earlier in the week and, well, it made me look at our pets in a whole new, less enthusiastic , light.

Tabatha Bundsesen, the woman who owns Grumpy Cat—AKA Tartar Sauce—may have made as much as $100 million in the past two years off that Frowning Feline. 

The Grumpy Cat empire has grown into books, merchandise, appearances, and even a holiday movie.

I looked at our dog Ozzo, and asked why why why he wasn’t out there making money for the family? Why did they get lucky with Grumpy Cat and we got stuck with Dumpy Dog?

The next day Carlos informed me that the story wasn’t true, that grumpy hasn’t made 50 million a year for the past two, he’s made just 10 million.

Oh … my bad. Now excuse me while I get to making our pets look a little pissed off.

Well well well, it appears that the International Olympic Committee [IOC] has voted in a new Principle 6 clause stating the Olympics must be free of discrimination "of any kind, including race, color, sex, sexual orientation, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status."

This new rule is a direct result of the Sochi Games and Russia’s very anti-LGBT laws and policies.

That’s good to hear.

Speaking of Carlos, I have been driving him crazy … crazier … every day by, out of the blue, busting out into my high-pitched, off-key rendition of Tomorrow from Annie.

All Carlos can do is shake his head and look away.

♫♪ The sun’ll come out ….. ♪♫

We’ve been watching The Leftovers on the DVR. I mentioned last week about the hot-itude that is Justin Theroux, but the show also includes, clockwise from the top left:

Chris Zylka, Paterson Joseph and Max and Charlie Carver.

It’s like Beefcake-apalooza over there.

Speaking of Hot Men on the tube, how much do I like Finn Wittrock who plays the bloodthirsty, murderous Dandy Mott on American Horror Story?

The answer is “A lot!” He’s a hot little killer, with a killer booty, and a way to play crazy that reminds me of that other AHS star Jessica Lange.

I hope that however AHS returns next year that Finn is part of the show.

Carlos plays in a community band here in Smallville, and this week they gave their Christmas Concert, after which the band had a Christmas party at a member’s home.

Good food, good conversation, some drama …

Like when Carlos introduced me to his conductor as his, ahem, “significant other.”

I know; we had a long talk about hat and about how, if he thinks someone might be offended by him calling me his “husband” — because that’s what I am — then that unease is on the part of the other person.

That said, we chatted up Fiona, a lovely Brit who now lives in Smallville, and as we chatted the talk turned to food and cooking. Carlos said he as the MasterBaker while I said I was the cook, and she smiled and told us that we were the perfect pair; one of us is Art — that’d be me — and the other is Science — that’s be Carlos.

I reminded him that Fiona had no qualms about chatting up the homos.

And so this week's Song in My Head is for Carlos ..... though Idina Menzel AKA Adele Dazeem, sings it far better than I.

Weekend Update

Aaaah, relaxing. Such a nice weekend, and, of course, we made an early start of it on Friday morning.

I discovered a few months ago that Idina Menzel [Rent ... Wicked ... Glee] would be appearing at Atlanta Symphony Hall, and naturally I raced to the computer and ordered tickets. They were magnetized to the refrigerator for weeks until the day finally came.

We had planned a short, but sweet getaway, and left mid-morning on Friday for the three-plus hour drive; it's practically a straight shot from Smallville to Atlanta so there were no wrong turns or missed exits, and no threats of kicking someone out of the car.

I'd never been to Atlanta before, except many, many, stops at the airport while flying east to west and back again through the years, so I was looking for ward to it. And Carlos hasn't been back in many years, so it was nice to share it together.

The ride was the ride. As rides go. Big rigs with big tires, and road construction. A lot of our road trip view was the east end of a west bound rig, but it was pretty, and the leaves were changing, and I was serenading Carlos with IdinA tunes, so it was nice.

We stayed at the Artmore Hotel, in Midtown, which is a small boutique hotel. Very nicely refurbished and chic. The obligatory bar in the lobby, and a beautiful courtyard with fireplace and water feature. It reminded us both of some of the smaller hotels on South Beach.

And speaking of smaller. I had heard that the rooms were small, especially the bathrooms, because this is an old hotel, but the room was not small at all, and really, very pretty. Rosy, romantic, you know. Now, the bathroom, well, yes, it was a postage stamp, but I am not a bathroom kind of gay, so it was Get-In-Do-Your-Business-And-Get-Out.

Get out and walk to a nearby Mexican restaurant for a late lunch. Rosa Mexicana was very good; some of the best, spiciest salsa I've ever had. Tortilla soup and ahi tuna ceviche was absolutely fantastic.

They have a wall of water cascading down one side of the restaurant, with little tiny white men diving down, like the cliffs at Acapulco. Plus, a truly great, lime-y, strong, [did I mention strong?] margarita to start things off.

After lunch we strolled around, peering in shops and people watching, until it was time to head back and change for the show. I knew the hotel was close to Symphony Hall, but when we asked at the desk about driving, or taking a cab, she said it was just around the corner, so we walked it.

It was a gorgeous night, cool, not cold, and we took our time walking. Symphony Hall, and the surrounding museum complex, is a gleaming white building with all sorts of venues for plays and concerts, and art. We went in and ordered a drink and milled around, doing more people watching and checking out a photographic exhibition in the lobby. It was interesting, the kinds of people waiting to see Idina Menzel. Young and old, all colors, gay and straight; quite the diverse crowd.

Finally, it was time to go in, and we made our way down to our orchestra seats. Very nice seats, though I could have sat closer, or as Carlos says, "Close enough so she can sweat on you." And, yes, that would have been okay.

While we waited, and listened to the symphony tune up, I noticed two screens on either side of the stage showing upcoming performances. There was Christmas Messiah's and some Danish opera singer and a few plays and Patti LuPone and......

PATTI LUPONE!

Cut to me, at home, Sunday night, online, ordering tickets to see La LuPone!

Anyway, the show begins, the orchestra starts, and Idina Menzel comes skipping, yes, skipping, onstage in her bare feet. The concert was just fabulous. The voice is gorgeous, and her stage presence was phenomenal. She was so funny, telling stories between songs, and working the crowd, especially the latecomers. No divaliciousness, just good fun.

At one point, Carlos leans over to me, and, because he's such a classical music queen and loves a good symphony, says that the orchestra is fabulous. At the same time, Idina Menzel turns to the orchestra and once again says how much she enjoys them, before adding, "But enough about you, back to me!"

There was one spot in the show, where she's singing "For Good", from Wicked, without the orchestra and without the microphone. Just her voice and the hall. Suddenly, we heard a booming voice from somewhere up there--not god, but someone in the balcony--shouting, "Mic!" People snickered nervously, but Idina kept singing. A few seconds later, he shouted something again, and then Idina started giggling mid-song; she laughed and asked that he not be thrown out, that he was all right, and then she finished the song.

Later, during the encore, she dedicated to both her mother, and the man in the balcony. It was "Tomorrow"from Annie. Such a beautiful show. So much fun. So many great tunes.

This one, from Rent, "No Day But Today", was probably my favorite because it was so sweet and melancholy, and sung for Jonathan Larson, the composer and writer of Rent, who died of an aortic dissection before the show officially opened.

After the show, we walked back to the hotel for a late diner and drinks. We sat in the Studio Bar and just relaxed and chatted. It was such a nice end to a wonderful day.

The next day we spent around Piedmont Park, enjoying the sun, and the views. People jogging, walking strollers, hot guys playing Frisbee Football.

We ate breakfast at a funky little place called The Flying Biscuit, and then strolled through the neighborhood of old houses and new condos.

We came upon Outwrite, a gay bookstore--how long has it been since I was in a gay bookstore? No such thing in Smallville--and went inside. There are few things I love more than books, and bookstores, so I was in heaven, and $170 later we were outta there. But you can never have enough books, or birthday cards, or small pieces of jewelry.

There was a Farmer's Market in the park, and we met a former lawyer turned T-shirt designer, who sells her own designs undere the CoutuRecycling label. All sorts of shirts with a recycling theme; recycling everything from laughter, to water to boyfriends. She has a website, HERE, so give her a look, and maybe pick a little something up.

Now, as we are apt to do, Carlos and I, we talked of living in Atlanta. After years of Miami and Ft Lauderdale, it was nice to be in a more urban environment, and we love the idea of theater and museums and that rush of traffic and people and life that doesn't exist in Smallville. Now, the good thing is that we are not far from Atlanta, so we can make it down much more often and explore more often, until, maybe, a move occurs, if it occurs.

One of the great stops on our mini-trip was actually on the way home. A year or so ago, we discovered a Cuban restaurant in Aiken, South Carolina--of all places--and when we were getting ready to leave Atlanta, I suggested maybe we drive into Aiken on the way home and have a good Cuban meal.

And we did. The Cafe Rio Blanco is still there, and still serving one of the meanest Frita Burgers you'll ever taste--ground beef, ground pork, ground chorizo--on a homemade bun with shoestring potatoes, followed by a Cortadito--sweetened espresso--after.
Heaven.
The whole weekend.
Heaven.

Getaway!

Posting will be light the next few days--or perhaps non-existent, since Blogger seems to like turning some of my Scheduled Posts into Drafts and leaving them lying around where no one can read them until I happen upon them and then post them but I digress--because Carlos and I are off to Atlanta for a little belated anniversary weekend fun and frolic.
Best of all, though not better than spending all my free time with Carlos, will be the fact that we are seeing Idina Menzel at Symphony Hall.
I.Could.Die.
Updates upon our return.
Be nice.
Play safe.
Peace.

Christmas Came Early To Smallville

Patti LuPoine A Memoir

Idina Menzel, I Stand

Tim Gunn, Gunn's Golden Rules: Life's Little Lessons For Making It Work

Could I BE more gay?

I'm In An Idina State Of Mind

Idina Menzel Defying Gravity

She Didn't Sing On Glee Last Night......

...But she's singing today.
Ladies and Gentleladies, Idina Menzel and Brave!

Happy Thanksgiving

Idina Menzel: "Defying Gravity" from Wicked

Sting "Fragile"

Crowded House "Distant Sun"

Linda Ronstadt "Someone To Watch Over Me"