Santacon 2007

December 15, 2007-Santarchy, a self-proclaimed group of Christmas Anarchists, have hosted another successful Santacon for 2007. This event is marked by hundreds upon hundreds of Santas descending on an unsuspecting area. Rusty and I attended this Santacon despite the controversy of moving the venue from downtown SF to the Jack London Square area of Oakland. Many bars and restaurants in SF had posted signs forbidding Santas on the premises and the police in SF began blocking certain areas during Santacon 2006.
The Santarchy group posted the first meeting spot the day before the event in hopes of eluding the police. We ended up starting in Jack London Square waiting for the two Ferry's of Santas arriving from San Francisco, Embarcadero Center. With the 150 Santas waiting, I estimate at least 400 Santas, and seeing as how most were Burning Man alumni, the Santa costumes were racy, irreverent, tame, nasty, scary, cute, sexy and everywhere on the weird spectrum...The first stop was the BevMo (for those that are unfamiliar, BevMo is Beverages and More, think Costco for Booze). As Rusty and I passed the BevMo, it was clear the staff was in full crisis mode. I'm sure more than one liquor sales representative threw in the towel and quit that day. Santas were congregated out front in mass and lined up two fold down every aisle. The best Santa ensemble, in my humble opinion, were the secret service elves following the "Santa/Frosty '08" Presidential candidates. These elves never broke character and "protected" Santa at every venue, that's commitment!




We then went to a huge sports bar, large enough to house 400 crushed red velvet clad Santas. Rusty and I started talking to a group of women and realized soon into the conversation we were all expat Southerners. The bar was over run with thirsty Santas. Group think chants began to rise up from the throng, "Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho..." repeated ad infinitum. Candy canes and lollipops were continuously flying through the air, threatening to put out an eye. I was privileged to witness an elf spanking a bare assed chap clad Santa...an image forcing visions of sugar plums out of my head.We had just gotten beers, when the call came, "Santas on the move". We marched next to the naughty portion of the tour. A look into an erotic store. I skipped the cramp confines favoring instead a brief respite in the winter sunshine of the East Bay. By this time, the San Francisco Santas were complaining loudly about the heat (all of 75 degrees) so the call came once again, "Santas on the move!"

On the walk to the next bar, Rusty and I met two lovely Aussie Sheilas. It was fun to get the Aussie perspective of this pandemonium. I believe the word "Brilliant" was flung about with reckless abandon. We ended up at the Pacific Coast Brewing Company, your basic brew-pub. We sat on the patio, not even trying to get to the bar, drinking beers bought in stores and delis in the area. We also sang Christmas Carols out of the Santacon Songbook. These "traditional" songs with "non-traditional" lyrics brought a smile to many faces.

Soon Santa was on the move once again. Instructions were to hop on the BART and go to Downtown Berkley. A quick march around Martin Luther King park to watch Santas battle cardboard clad robots presented by the Society for Creative Anachronism, and back to the Jupiter for another sit down. By this time, many Santas were ending up sprawled on the sidewalk with other Santas vowing to care for them. The mood in this bar was decidedly more mellow as Santas were unwinding after a long day of merrimaking, booze drinking, and what I assume to be illicit substance use ( more than the scent of gingerbread was wafting through the air). Some Santas were also getting a bit belligerent. One particularly obnoxious Santa was eventually maced and the paramedics arrived. Talk about kharmic debt. We decided to say our good byes before things got too confrontational. Most Santas were headed back to Union Square in San Francisco for more anarchy but our fun was done.

We met up with a few Santas on the BART headed back to Jack London Square and decided one feels less a potential target of trouble when enmasse.
The day was, in the words of my Aussie mates, "Brilliant". The many smiles one garners from passers-by is worth the effort of donning fur lined red suits and marching around for a few hours. Kids and adults, homeless people and Mercedes driving housewives, gang-bangers and min-van occupants all honked, smiled or waved as the red sea of Santas passed in front of them. The collective absurdity helped people break down any pretenses. The mood was jovial with minor exceptions, for most of the day, and the rush of participating in an instant diverse but like minded community was addictive. I have a taste of what it must be like to participate in Transformus or Burning Man.

For me, it is often difficult to transition out of my desire for a Bohemian lifestyle back to the realities of a high pressure job and the responsibilities of day-to-day living. I do enjoy some parts of being an educator, but walking around with a bunch of Santas on a sunny California Saturday is akin to the proverbial "I'm gonna chuck it all in and live on the beach in Mexico for the rest of my life". I know I'll retire an educator but it is fun to step out of my responsibility driven world and take a brief jaunt into the alternative zone.

Are there any lessons to be learned? Yeah, don't be too obnoxious a Santa or you may get maced, and the ridiculous enmass can seem downright normal. Enjoy.

Of Turkeys and Trees...November in California

Cough, wheeze, sputter...when diving one expects to hear the soothing sounds of the ocean waves, the whimisical barking of seals and sea lions and the occassional screech of a sea gull. Rusty and I spent two days recertifying for diving in Monterey. Unfortunately, as Rusty and I were diving, all he must have heard was me gasping for breath. My mild case of asthma made recertfying a difficult experience but manageable. Monterey is a beautiful place filled with the California mellowness one comes to expect in a coastal city. We enjoyed good food, the full hot tubbing experience, and moments of pure nirvana beneath the ocean waves. The weather was fair, but very foggy. The area where we recertified hosted tons of divers. Hopefully, we'll be finding a less public spot for our next trip.

Rusty and I spent Thanksgiving day at our friend Dominic's house. He and his family were very gracious hosts and the food was a mix of traditional fare and enchiladas. Certainly a relaxing day with refreshing cocktails. It's odd to have a Thanksgiving sans family; quiet, calm and polite. I miss the fruit cocktail cake, the mild dramas and the special event European wedding china (white with engraved foliage on the rim).

The next day (black Friday) I decided to brave downtown San Francisco. The fighting, the kicking the scratching to get the last on sale gift set...I hope I didn't hurt anyone. I spent sometime watching the skaters at the Embarcadero outdoor skating ring. After, Rusty and I went to the movies and then downtown to Union Square to look at tourists and the Macy's tree now with LED lights. We were completely immersed in the midst of crass commercialism, throngs of crowds, twinkling lights, and extravagent window displays. Let the season begin.

During the weekend, we also bought our tree. After years of pine scented greenery straight from the Christmas Tree farm, we have caved to the pre-lit, better than real variety. Easy to set up, strong branches for oversized ornaments and better than natural symmetry. Even though Rusty vowed never to have a plastic tree, he saw the sad state of the trees in the area at twice the price we have traditionally paid. I have no preference toward plastic or real trees as I'm the type of Christmas Scrooge willing to forego a tree altogether. Every once in awhile, I spray the Glade Room Freshner, Christmas Pine Scent, to feel less California Christmas and more rustic North Carolina Christmas.

We're gearing up for the holidays with our yearly chili and cocktail party for Rusty's birthday. I'll be posting picutres from that party soon. Our house is open to any and all visitors. Hope to see you all soon.

October Update

On the verge of All Hallow's Eve, it's time to bring friends and loved ones up to speed on our life here on the edge of the Hayward fault (on average a major quake hits the fault every 140 years, we're on year 139!)

We've had a few chances to explore the bay area and once again be reminded of the diversity and the access to so many activites. A few weekends ago, we went to the Blue Grass Festival in Golden Gate park. Many performers were there for this free concert. Just in the few hours we were there, we saw Gillian Welch, Earl Scruggs, and Emmylou Harris.Rusty decided to brave the crowds and head toward another stage to see Michelle Shocked, who knew she was now doing Bluegrass. It was a terrific day of music, wine and new friends (including some obnoxious guy from Tennessee forcing crappy bourbon on everyone and hitting on every woman under 40 in the area- charming and cute in a belching and farting ex-frat boy kinda way). We bought an Aussie wine in honor of our Sheila across the pond. The wine didn't have a kangaroo or koala on the label but did boast a typical Aussie slangword. Despite the lack of an adorable marketing animal on the label, the wine managed to hold up on this temperate fall day.

Work for me has been intense and leaves little time for much else. I knew transitioning to a new place would be difficult but I feel like a first year principal again. This district expects lots of paperwork (not my favorite part of the job). The district office is so much smaller than my last one and offers very little in the way of actual support. I am starting to appreciate the talents of the staff and their dedication to the school and students of Castro Valley. They are a good staff but have yet to move into the great range. Despite my current job dissatisfaction, I know this will change.The newness will subside. I feel as if the school year is whizzing by. I am looking forward to actual breaks. There are many things I'll miss about year-round but the exhausting nature of the school calendar will not be missed.

Other activities and projects include the fence in the front yard. I'd like to say we tore down the previous fence but really the wood was very rotted and fell apart easily. The new fence is very sturdy because Rusty, of course, had to cement the posts below the frost line (hmmmm...engineers are always fun to work with, more than one project a month would certainly result in divorce and any more than that holds the potential for homicide - I can't predict much but I can predict Rusty will use the comment section for rebuttal).













In preparation for a potential trip down under to visit our "fag-princess" (yes, we all know we mean 'hag', but why piss her off even more), Rusty and I have been working toward diver certification. We are both currently certified but decided to recertify as it has been awhile since last diving. We have already done the coursework (on-line, awesome) and have completed the pool skills. We will go to Monterey for our certification dive in November. We are taking our diver certification from a shop in Burlingame on the 'nins (short for peninsula) from a dive shop that also doubles as a site to be certified in fire arms...huh? It is reminiscent of the Drive-in theatre in Durham that also doubles as a gun shop. Wow, these two things seems oddly paired, diving and fire arms - usually only coupled in James Bond movies. There you have it, one example of the incongruous nature of California in general. Wonderfully accepting to a fault and often to the point of little dedication to any sets of principles and values. Scathing criticism? A little but there is much to love here as well.

Our goal of course is to dive the Australian barrier reef next summer, and then drink ourselves into a stupor with burly miners in MacKay...I'm pretty sure these goals are attainable. We are currently looking into flights and as soon as we create an itinerary will forward it on in hopes that friends can join us - don't worry, like everyone, we can't afford the time nor the cost but are going to go anyhow.

Visitors are always welcome here in the East Bay. Recently Eugene, a Green Year Round fifth grade teacher, called and we met for dinner in San Fransisco. He's a great guy and we had fun reminiscing about my old school - although Eugene is horrible at relaying all of the current gossip, it seems I knew more about the sordid lives of the teachers than him, but there you have it...

Wayne has been visiting from NC. We celebrated the Saturday before Halloween in the Castro. In year's past, the streets have been closed off and the revellers have partied all night. Due to Gang shootings last year, the city did not allow the Castro to close the streets and the revellers remained in the bars, restaurants and on the sidewalks. Still fun to see interesting costumes.















Caroleena recently sent out a request for a list of ten...there were several options, including bad habits, things one loves, etc.

I think I will create a list of ten things I really like in the Bay area to entice potential visitors:

1. The Tonga Room, Fairmont Hotel, SF - Big drinks, rain storm every twenty minutes and Don Ho style music after 7PM, live the fifties once again.

2. Beach Blanket Babylon, Club Fuggazi, SF - Caberet for tourists, but excellent none the less. Big hats, crazy costumes, terrific singing and dancing.

3. The views from our house. Pretty!

4. Sonoma - wine country, although filled with tourists, very relaxing and beautiful.

5. Madjul Bar and Restaurant - Appetizers and drinks in the roof top patio can't compare. On a summer afternoon, one can watch the fog spilling over the Twin Peaks in a grand display of natural elegance.

6. Foster's Bighorn, Rio Vista - www.fostersbighorn.com - this bar has one of the most remarkable collections of taxidermied animals. I have never been, but do appreciate that this place exists. Thanks to Jamie (Rusty's Gen-xer, red neck coworker from Virginia we certainly count as a friend) for letting us know that this road side bar is an afternoon's drive away. I know I'm going to get a lecture and reprimand for including this on my list, especially from Caroleena and Khristi, but I couldn't resist.

7. Ginger's Trois - a favorite bar of Rusty's in the downtown area - the strongest drinks on the planet served by the owners who have to close the bar by 11PM because they are really drunk and prone to arguing with each other.

8. Food, food, food - you name it, we can get it - excepting of course a good ham biscuit!

9. Standing Room Only at the Opera. World class Opera for $10.

10. More people come here than ever came to visit in Raleigh...

Not a particularly insightful list, but still things I would like to share.

OK, one last list, I haven't let anyone know what I've been listing to on the ol' Ipod. Many of these songs have been on commercials for different products but we live in a commercial culture - that doesn't lesson my enjoyment of the music:

Feist - "1,2,3,4", "Mushaboom", "Secret Heart", "My Man, My Moon" - she makes me happy, she reminds me of the women in the vocal section in the record store- the "1, 2, 3, 4" video is the only video I hae ever downloaded onto my computer, so check it out.

Matchbook Twenty - "How Far We've Come" - a bit of an anthem for me right now, provides an opportuntiy for reflecting on my current state of affairs.

Regina Spektor - "Music Box" - Odd and a a little disconcerting, but not to the level of Med Byrd type of challenging.

M. Craft - "Dragonfly" - if I weren't so German this song would bring tears to my eyes. Beautiful guitar playing and haunting melodies...this song leaves me wanting and wistful.

Well, my friends, October has almost fallen by the way-side. I've been reminded by several friends of long standing that this isn't the first time I've gone through transitions in my life and that time resolves much anxiety and stress. So, thanks to those friends that have seen me join the Army, come out, go through family strife, meet my partner, move to a foreign land (NC), change jobs, and come full circle to the Bay Area. The reminder that things are only temporarily in flux has been reassuring. Friends, enjoy the fall and Halloween, feel free to send fall photos and to comment on this lengthy missive.

N'walins

Lynette and Carol, southern hostesses extraordinaire invited a gang of people to New Orleans for Southern Decadence, another gay fest during the hottest Louisiana low country days. Labor day weekend was spent dehydrating and rehydrating as much as possible. The guests included Rusty and myself, Donna Mae and Robin (Durham representin' in da house), Julie (aka our straight drag queen) and Ryan (heavenly tolerant boyfriend). Carmen and Beth were there (lovely ladies), and Lloyd (drunk, obnoxious straight guy found in every crowd) and Erica (caretaker and another heavenly tolerant spouse). So for once, the party was balanced with straights and gays although we do count Julie as one of our ranks (truly a gay man trapped in a delicious straight girl body).

A great time was had by all. Sometimes you travel with people and there is a burr in the saddle of the entire group. This was not one of those times, everyone seemed to enjoy the sauna like atmosphere and feel comfortable with each other. It's amazing what gallons of alcohol will do for a group of friends. It turns out Lynette is a bit of a stalker for a zydeco band on Bourbon. We spent many hours listening to set after set of Jansen on keyboard and his mom on the fiddle. Beth and I two-stepped our way into legend as the band continued into the night.

Not every moment was rosey. Rusty took us out of the French Quarter on a wild goose chase to find a bar. The neighborhood was a bit run down and we definitely looked like a bunch of yuppies on a crack run. We never made the bar despite Rusty's best efforts, bless his heart. We opted to get back to the rank smells of Bourbon Street. Other than that, the weekend was fairly relaxing and our hostesses were extremely gracious.

There is something excessively civilized about sitting in an open air cafe, listening to music and enjoying a liquid breakfast of spicy Bloody Mary's. I'm not sure my constitution can take more than short trips to the sin city.

Enjoy a few pics:

Girlz Gone Wild!



The heat and booze helps to loosen up even the most shy midwesterner.




A handsome stranger in the city of sin and vice.



The parade was a bit sad until this vision of Diva arrived.



What the...we were just looking for the IHOP!



Definitely my moment of Zen!

Thanks for indulging me in this weekend of trying to recapture my youth, it'll take sometime to recover from my Labor Day of excess but I want to thank Lynette and Carol for their hospitality, their generosity and for their love!

Transitions Continue

On the verge of my 42nd Birthday, it is difficult to avoid taking stock of all in my life. Much of my life has been spent preparing for the next phase. This past year, I feel as if everything I've done has been to prepare for being in Oakland with Rusty. At this stage of the game, I believe we have set ourselves back a bit to eventually move forward. I mean career wise, financially, in our personal life, and in our living situation. I'm well aware this is a temporary state of affairs and all will be in balance again soon.

Change happens...I know this is the order of the universe. My entire professional studies have been based on managing change. I have always considered myself a change agent. The safe thing to do would have been to ride out another twenty years in the Wake County School District and retire with a big house in Fuquay-Varina, North Raleigh, or Cary. This certainly is an alluring proposition in many ways. The right side of my mid 40's brain craves stability and consistency. Instead of caving into our right brain urges, we've thrown the proverbial caution to the wind, and made the switch to the left coast. The hassles of this move have been great. It has taken lots of moving in and out of storage, lots of flying across country, miles and endless miles of driving, and many tears shed over friends and family. So far, the payoff for the monumental efforts have been slow in coming.

I'm trying to be patient but being in a holding pattern for a year has blunted my resiliency and optimism. But there are hints of Northern California bliss. Neither Rusty nor myself are missing the 102 degree summer and high humidity of Raleigh. The weather has been good if not downright chilly at times.

The job front is certainly looking up. The day after I arrived in Oakland, I had an interview with Castro Valley Unified School District (www.cv.k12.ca.us). This district is about 20 minutes south of Oakland right near Hayward. Well, after a call back with the superintendent, I received a job offer. Hooray! Of course I accepted. As of August 13th, I will be the principal of Marshall Elementary School (www.marshall.cv.k12.ca.us). The school has around 400 students (somewhat small but typical for California schools). The entire district has about 8,500 students - Wow! What a difference. As a matter of fact, the director of curriculum hopped in a car and drove me around to all of the schools in the district, we were finished by lunchtime. Reality check for me for sure.

Our house, although old and not insulated (afternoons are sweltering in the living room) is starting to feel a little like there is potential. It's in the Montclair district of Oakland. Rusty thinks this feels more like our home than Fuquay Varina, I guess both of us are products of our parents always buying fixer uppers. Adam, our landlord and friend, just spent two weeks here getting a few things taken care of for us. He's a very generous and kind person. Rusty and I didn't have much time to be able to hang out with him as we were just trying to get stuff unpacked and put away. There's always next time.

Di, Erin (from Australia) and Michael Gilchrist were here for a few weeks. We had a really good time hanging out and doing tourist stuff. I think everyone was feeling a little cramped and alot in transition as we all were winding something up. It still was awesome to just walk around the city and see some beautiful sites. We managed to catch "Beach Blanket Babylon" and a late dinner at Ideale Italian restaurant one evening. The restaurant was almost as entertaining as the show, as the authetic Italian waitstaff was loads of fun. (Maybe not so much when one of them accidentally knocked a glass of wine all over Rusty...but they were very good spirited about the whole affair - so was Rusty for that matter.) We also managed to hit the "Up Your Alley" fair. A gay leather community fair. Awesome time, drinking, dancing, meeting people and drinking some more. Michael was truly in his element as a costumed demon. Rusty managed to don a pair of horns for the occassion. Di, Erin, and I of course stood out like tourists. (Not as much as the over 60 year old couple from some midwestern town-a friendly bunch, one of the ladies even manged to borrow a paddle and spank a leather clad daddy.) I'm sure those pictures will end up on some weird fetish site, but it was funny. Di managed to get in the front of beer lines pretty quickly by dragging out the Aussie accent...until I told them she is really from Fuquay Varina. I think everyone figured out that massive amounts of alcohol makes everyone really friendly at these events! Sadly, everyone needed to go home, leaving a void in our home.

Other positives include a state park just a five minute drive from our front door. Walking through the park, one does not get the sense that millions of people are just over the hills. The scenery is sweeping in scope and depth. Truly expansive open spaces. We have to drive up the Oakland hills slowly to our house in the evening for fear of hitting a deer (as Michael said, "If we were in North Carolina, I would've thought the deer were just yard art.")

Last night was certainly a highlight. For our 17th anniversary, Rusty took me to Absinthe restaurant (www.absinthe.com). We had a magnificent dinner wth even better drinks. A little high on the price scale but we enjoyed way too much food. The french (Freedom) fries were effervescently light, with a bevvy of sauces to compliment. Rusty had a terrific French onion soup. Rusty's beef cheeks entree was by far superior to my pork. Both were delicious but his beef was tender and light enough to wonder whether one had actually taken a bite or not. The wine list is extensive but we opted for predinner cocktails and of course dessert cocktails. The cocktail list is lengthy but I enjoyed mine so much I opted to reorder the same for my second. After this orgasmic experience, we went to a show. The Orpheum was hosting the travelling "Avenue Q" broadway show (www.avenueq.com). This is a "puppet show" where the puppets interacted with real life actors. Think dysfunctional, nasty Sesame Street with a mild plot. We had fourth row seats almost dead center (so close, the puppets almost sweat on us). Rusty really liked the "Bad Idea Bears", the cute and cuddly bears that came around occassionally to give the main characters terrible ideas. The novelty certainly held our interest but the actors were phenomenal, as well.

On the horizon? A trip to New Orleans for Decadence (Labor Day) with the incomprobable Lynette and Carol. We have been promising the dynamic duo that we will be going to New Orleans forever. Time to make good on our promise and begrudgingly enjoy ourselves. Expect pictures from this trip.

I'm working on reconciling missing my friends, my family, all of my coworkers and my students. I know as the school year ramps up, time will fly by. The transition time will lessen and this area will seem more like home as we settle more of the stuff on our plates. I'm excited about the new opportunities in this golden state. Feel free to book a visit (maybe after the start of school). Also, feel free to comment, email and/or otherwise keep in touch. Missing everyone...

Through Heaven and Hell, in 5 Days

Five days in the car, just me and the dog. Sounds like the archetype of a roadtrip movie, filled with wacky adventures, excitement and danger...We headed for the left coast on Saturday, June 16th, after a teary eyed good-bye at my mom's house. (Driving to mom's added about three hours to that day's driving time, but with the prospect of days in the car, three hours seemed a little less daunting). All this occured after finishing up at work and hurriedly packing my meger belongings from the apartment, (mostly cloths and a few bits of memorobilia).

Day 1: After driving through the beautiful blue ridge mountains and the exquisite Kentucky horse and bourbon country, I decided to stay just outside of Lexington for the evening. This day was decidely uneventful, not even an opportunity really to reflect on the last few weeks and the many stressors in the Lewis family.

Day 2: My policy has been to avoid "I" states as much as possible. America has so many states beginning with the letter "I" and very few of them hold any sort of interest for me. Just outside of St. Lois (still in Indiana), my car overheated. This had occured one other time, as I was commuting back and forth to mom's house during the funeral arrangements for dad. The last time this happened, I called Saturn of Raleigh, explained the symptoms and they assured me it was probably just a radiator cap on loose, or something to that effect. Welll seeing as how it didn't occur again, I tended to believe the mechanic from Raleigh. In Indiana. the car overheated due to the sweltering ninety-five degree heat, further adding to my disdain of "I" states. I say sweltering because although the heat may be more severe in Raleigh, the difference is that this part of Indiana offers very little in the form of shade trees. My car cooled down enough to pull over in Jellico, Indiana in the late afternoon. The Saturn dealership was not open on Sunday, so I got a hotel room and waited for Monday morning to roll around. Keiko entertained herself by sitting in front of the hotel air conditioning. I decided to go to the movies to get cooled off and fill the time. I saw "Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer" Uggggg. The best thing to be said is that it was better than the first Fantastic 4 movie (talk about damned with faint praise).

Day 3: I drove the car to the South County Saturn dealership (just south of St. Lois). Jim, the service manager, was very helpful and eager to help me get back on the road. He had an excellent sense of humor (of course this always translates to mean he politely laughed at my jokes). After an hour and a mere $35, I was on my way. It appears that my car was not overheating, rather that during my last service, Saturn of Raleigh overfilled my transmission fluid by 2 1/2 quarts and the fluid was coming out through the overflow tube once the trnasmission reached a certain temperature. Yes, I was furious with Saturn of Raleigh, mainly for making me stay in an "I" state much longer than I ever intended. My detour into South County also meant that I missed the St. Lois arch. From there it was on to Kansas City. Is there a midwestern city not under construction? After entering Kansas, the rain started pouring down. For the next 3-4 hours, rain continued to pour in a deluge as we crawled along trying to get to the other side of this farming state. After the storms, the blue skies of Kansas were shining through. Cumulus clouds were spread throughout the sky, really just little whisps of marshmallow fluff. I found the true axis of evil, as I passed a town announcing the boyhood home of Senators Alan Specter and Bob Dole. I was fooled by skyscrapers off in the distance clustered together forming what I thought was a city. Upon getting closer, it was clear that these were gi-normous grain silos towering on the plains. Kansas was so flat, I felt as if I could see the Welcome to Colorodo sign even from mile marker 300. The drive was punctuated by anti-abortion signs and churches rising above the fields of corn and wheat. The power lines and roads were stretching on forever. If Indiana was hell, then Kansas felt like the endless monotony of pergatory. One could smell the scent of clean living and the occassional road-kill skunk. The signs were fun to read in this state. One sign in Colby announced the largest barn in Kansas, another announced the largest prairie dog - with more time, I would've liked to verify these claims. I've always been fascinated by these claims to fame but must always take these signs at their word because of my reluctance to actually pay money to see for myself (although I did pay a buck to see Hurley the world's biggest pig, at the NC state fair - the only thing I can remember about Hurley was that his scrotum was as large as a person's head and that he was parked next to the rib shack - unfortunate). Eventually, purgatory was at an end and Colorado loomed large. The topography of Coloroda was not much different in this part of Colorado but there was more buildings and signs. As I drove along the Colorado hillside, I listened to Rachmoninoff CDs, given to me as a going away present from the grumpiest bus driver at Green Elementary. This guy hated me until I told him I was going to the Opera a few months ago. As a classical music officianado, Mr. Joe took it upon himself to educate me on some of the classics. Rachmoninoff was a poor choice for the topography of Colorado. The rolling hills paled to the dramatic offerings of this classical composer. None-the-less, the music and countryside were both beautiful.

From the middle of Kansas on, signs announced the imminent arrival of Limon. Maybe there was more to Limon than just five motels, a few gas stations, and a few scattered fast food joints. But did this small weigh station deserve the mileage countdown the same as Denver? Let's just say, "The build up was a bit big!" I stayed the night in Limon none-the-less.

Day 4: Owing to crossing a few different time zones, I was up in time to see the sun rise from the East. One gets the sense of the planet turning as the sun dips over the horizon in the west the night before and rises in the east in the morning. From limon, it was time to hit Denver. The only thing I can say about Denver is "Ugggggg". Denver had all the traffic of any large city but I got the sense that Denver was trying to still be a small cowboy town. Just outside of Denver, I stopped at Starbucks for the worst, impersonal service I have received (that is saying something from a Starbucks). I could not leave the traffic and headache of Denver with more haste. After a few turn arounds because of yet more construction, I drove North to finally hit I-80. A family was posing at the welcome to Wyoming sign. I tried to fathom the scenario that led to a family posing at the Welcome to Wyoming sign but couldn't get past the obvious questions? Who? Why? What the...? As I drove on, I enjoyed the multitudes of wind powered generators (wind is a resource never in short supply in this area). The fields were dotted with cattle and of all things, camels. Yes, folks, camels grazing in the middle of Wyoming. Again...Who? Why? What the...? I also passed another claim to fame: "Buford Wyoming, the Smallest Town in the Nation. Population 1" (with free wireless). Soon after, the highest point on I-80, where a Lincoln statue sits (odd but true, as I'm not sure Lincoln ever made it to Wyoming...).

At midday, I crossed the continental divide (the place where rain water has to decide whether to make the trek to the Pacific Ocean or the Atlantic Ocean). From here on out, all I had to do was follow the water to my new home.

Soon after, I arrived at Dixie's house in Salt Lake City, Utah. Dixie is a high school friend and someone I've never had the opportunity to get to know beyond acquaintences. It turns out, after spending a few hours together, we have much in common and I for one enjoyed the evening immensely. I met her kids, but her husband Tom was out of town as he is the guitar player for Donnie Osmond's band. Dixie is a person who seems to radiate an inner light built upon the belief that everyone is basically good and most everything will work out for the best. It's hard not to love that in a person. Dixie forced me to go on a mini rock climbing excursion. The climbing up was fun, the climbing down was a bit more treacherous. The scenery in Utah was absolutely beautiful.

Day 5: Up early and on to the west coast. Past the Great Salt Lake and into the endless desert. The lake seems to continue on forever with little vegetation surrounding this remenant from an ancient sea. Just past this sea is the Bonneville salt flats. I can understand how the world speed record was recorded here, as just passing I had the desire to make a left and put the pedal to the metal. There is virtually nothing to hit. The Nevada border came upon me quickly in this no man's land, and just past the border, ironically, is a Mandalay Bay hotel and Casino. It is odd to me to put a bay at the edge of an ancient dried up sea, but I'm sure the irony is lost on the hotel proprietors. Nevada was nothing but desert hills. Reno came soon enough as there were few places to stop and by this time, I was ready to be done with my five day sojourn. After hitting the desert, the Welcome to California came as a long awaited beacon. One enters California and soon is inducted into the most beautiful country imagined. The trees and mountains were almost cathedral like in their grandeur. The Lake Tahoe area was magnificent. With my windows open and my CD blaring, I felt as if I had reached Nirvana, a little slice of heaven. Even Keiko, my trusted K-9 companion, lifted her head from the pillow to smell the redwoods and fresh air. A quick jaunt from the foothills and I was near Sacramento...and traffic beyond belief. My euphoria came to a screeching halt as the realities of living in a heavily congested area came to the fore front. Between Sacramento and Berkeley, the traffic was punctuated by fits of speeding along at a lightening pace, only to be halted in a traffic jam.

Eventually braving the bay area, I got to Paul and Liz's house. I was frazzled, tired, road weary, and dirty, but I was there, safely. Five days alone on the road, one can get tired of one's own company. It was great to have Paul, Liz, Rusty and the boys to come home to. The newest California chapter starts. Exciting? Somewhat. A little scary? Certainly. Everything changes after five days and 3,000 miles. This country is a broad expanse with pockets of heaven (Lake Tahoe), hell (Indiana) and even purgatory (all of Kansas and much of the midwest I suspect). I think driving across country is a trip everyone should take, perhaps not with the hurried frenzy I experienced but with taking the time to see the World's biggest gopher and the boyhood home of Bob Dole.

Eulogy for Dad (11/15/33-6/5/07)

On June 5, 2007, my father passed away at the age of 73. He had a heart attack while napping at his home in Goldsboro, North Carolina. This was sudden but not entirely a surprise. Dad had surgery just last December in which he had a pacemaker placed in his chest. He was doing very well and was in better health than he had been in a few years. Following is the extended version of the eulogy I delivered at his funeral. I tried to capture my dad as he was; brash, funny, and irreverant:

"I read the obituary of Francis J. Lewis and did not recognize the deceased. Not that the author wasn’t accurate about my father. He was in the military, he loved bowling and golf, and he received several medals. This is all true and all great accomplishments but nowhere the measure of the man I knew.

First, I need to apologize in advance to those who expected me to speak with reverence about a pious man. Anyone that knew Frank, knew that he would’ve hated this type of eulogy. So I intend to share a few memories, tell a dirty joke, do an impression of my mom, say a few cuss words, and lightly offend a few people, including the minister and my mother I’m sure. By the way, don’t feel obligated to laugh at any of the jokes, I never did for dad’s terrible jokes either.

Dad did those great things in the military that are mentioned in the obituary but he often did them after a night of heavy drinking and smoking. He was much like every other military cowboy out there, flying planes in dangerous situations, living life on the edge, and coming home to a wife and kids left to pick up the pieces. Perhaps the greatest testament to his resolve is the day he gave up smoking. It was just a day as any other while we were still young. He was a true asshole for about a month, snapping at everyone and everything, and then continued on with his life as if he had never smoked to begin with. I tell you this to help you understand that he had his flaws like anyone else but he always considered himself a work in progress.

Dad really loved his family. He was married to Anna for 47 years, that’s longer than a life sentence. He often used to say, “You know what I did with my first German 50 cent piece?…I married her.” Dad was definitely the “Pull My finger” type of joker. Anna would always say “Oh, Frank! Dats not funny” secretly enjoying the joke at her own expense.

The two of them didn’t have an easy road. Dad married into a ready-made family. He dragged his ever growing family from military base to military base always popping in just briefly as he flew off to another mission. This was particularly hard on his German wife with four kids. Being discharged from the air force was difficult but I think it would’ve been more difficult for him to remain and be forced to take a desk job because of a heart condition. Through the tough times and the good times, mom and dad cried, laughed, fought, sacrificed and loved.

I don’t remember much about those early years but I do know the values from these military years are instilled in all of the Lewis’. The responsibility to one’s community wherever it may be, the value of hard work and sacrifice for the greater good, the appreciation of travel and broadening one’s perspective, and the importance of family even when they screw up. These things all came at a price but these values guide each of us in some way.

Growing up with dad wasn’t always easy. I’m not sure if it was on purpose or because of circumstances but dad really forced independence on each of us. To this day it is difficult for me to accept assistance with almost anything. Dad, at least to me, had the concept of tough love down pretty good. He never gave me anything I didn’t absolutely need. Everything had to be worked for…When I wanted to go off to college, he said, “We probably can afford to send a doctor or lawyer off to college.” I said I wanted to be a teacher. “Well, the military may be a good way to pay for that,” was his response. Today I look back at that through the eyes of a wiser forty year old. I say this not to point out that he could be a tough old buzzard but that his intent was to make me work for what I really wanted and that it was time to stand on my own, I know he had to stand on his own from early on.

Honestly, I hardly recognize the man his grandchildren call papa. That man spends money on the grandkids as if it were water and allows the grandkids to get away with just about murder. Many a times, my siblings and I looked at this man as if he were a stranger as he spoiled the grandkids to a point beyond excessive. It was nice to see this generosity from dad. Don’t get me wrong, dad loved playing with his own kids. He used to call Billy ‘Little manny’ and me ‘The disturbed professor’ as he would shadow box with us.

Unfortunately the grandkids will never know the man who had to work nights to ensure the house payments were made and food was on the table, who had to sacrifice going to the circus early in his marriage because he only had enough money for mom and Issy to go, or who ensured even after his passing his wife is cared for.


I’ve had lots of accomplishments in my life. Perhaps my greatest accomplishment came on my father’s 70th birthday. After having had a great meal and as we were all sitting around the fire pit making jokes, mostly at mom’s expense, telling stories about growing up, monumental fights, old grudges and those sorts of wounds only a family can laugh about, this man of few words turned to me and said, “No one in our whole family has ever been a doctor. I’m really proud of you.” Of course I laughed it off saying that I don’t have my doctorate yet, and I have a long way to go. Really, no job, no degree, no accomplishment has made me feel more proud than those few simple words. He was the kind of dad that you always wanted to please but never knew if you were pleasing him. I’ll never forget that moment, it’s emblazoned in my memory and my wish for my brothers and sisters is that they have had a similar experience with this quiet philosopher.

Dad collected baseball cards. I think he really enjoyed watching baseball in his youth so he tries to collect players from the Philadelphia Phillies around that time as well as lots of modern players. Although dad played football, I would rather think of him as the fourth batter in a baseball lineup. He wasn’t one of the first three batters, those batters that are all flash and panache. Rather, he was the clean up batter, always counted on for at least a single, often surprising everyone with a homerun. We’ll all miss him, those who have loved his faults, his accomplishments, and his humor. I entreat you to remember him, not in a suit in a coffin, something he would’ve been uncomfortable with at best, rather as the man with a 1950’s haircut slicked back with vasoline, never changed, a cheap watch with a tiger print band, and a shirt with a few stains from lunch on it. I know that’s how I’ll remember him."

Dad will be buried in Arlington National Cemetary at the end of this month. Thank you to all those people who came to the funeral, made food for the family, sent cards, sent flowers, called, and provided condolences and support. I not only loved my dad but I genuinely liked him too. Thank you so much for helping me honor his memory.

The Yin and Yang of Raleigh

As my departure date draws near, I'm hard pressed to ignore the many things I'll miss in North Carolina. With the Yin comes the Yang, not the opposite rather the balance. The Yang are all those things I'll not miss. This list does not include specific people I'll miss because that list is too long.

Things I'll Miss in NC...

Lighted Church Signs; "Call 911, This Church is on Fire for the Lord!"
Running into someone I know almost everwhere in Raleigh (even when I'm making a complete ass of myself).
Friday evening beers with my group of miscreants, misfits, and fascinating conversationalists.
Rarely waiting in line for restaurants or movies.
UNC, Chapel Hill in the fall.
Trees, Trees and more Trees.
Long walks through Umstead park.

Affordable housing. (Affordable everything)
Elderly southern women with gentility and grace complimented by a hard-as-nails will (truly women to be admired and feared).
My 30's (I'm 'chanting' for a decade in my 40's at least as exciting).
Fireflies and Caroleena's slam poem about fireflies, both are now synonymous in my mind.
Politeness from even strangers on the street.
Roadside graveyards.

Outdoor concerts (symphony, Art Museum Concerts, etc.)
My school.

Things I'll Not Miss...

W Stickers, especially in Fuquay-Varina
"Have a Blessed Day"
Humidity to make even the most dessicated corpse sweat a little.
North Raleigh mini-vans with soccer moms on cell phones driving like bats-outta-hell because Brittany or Candice with an 'i' has to go to cheerleading practice.
Omnipresent religious intolerance.
Homophobia in even the most liberal pockets of Raleigh.
Maintaing households on two seperate coasts.
"Family friendly" restaurants.
Nascar (I know Nascar is everywhere but I'll not miss living in the heart of Nascar country).

Feel free to post comments and add your own favorites or rants in the comments section.

Jane's Pearls

Jane, a teacher at my school ready to retire, taught me everything I now know about kindergarten. After thirty years, she has decided to write down her pearls of wisdom. Although every educator could benefit from this list, it is particularly useful to new teachers. Jane gave me permission to share this with the caveat that I'm to explain this is not a polished version.

So, here's Jane's gracious, unpolished Pearls.

1. Best wishes should be bestowed on those that stay behind in the trenches not those leaving the profession.
2. The man downtown signs your paycheck but the most important man (or woman) in the building is the custodian. He's the one you can call to clean the puke off the classroom floor and the pee from the toilet seat. Take a minute to put your chairs up on the table every day to make his/her life easier and return the favor.
3. If you're sitting in the room at 5:00PM or on Saturday, ask yourself, does what I'm doing this second have a significant impact on student learning? If the answer is not really, get your keys and leave.
4. Get organized. If you can't find it, you can't use it.
5. You are more likely to marry a millionaire then to get a pay raise from the legislature. Richly blessed and richly rewarded are not the same.
6. Don't waste your tears on day 180 for the kids you are promoting. They are your successes and your evidence you have accomplished what you were hired to do. Let your heart break for those that you could NOT get to grade level and vow to never let it happen again.
7. Anyone can take credit for teaching a bright kid. Only a true teacher can move the challenges.
8. Not matter what you heard you were not born a teacher. You have talent and potential but your license is a learner's permit. It entitles you to practice everyday. With luck and patience you may actually become the "real deal". And yes, expect it to take ten years.
9. Be real. Students develop a taste for excellence using your yardstick. Believe it or not, every piece of work is not a student's personal best. Acknowldege efforts with praises but reserve your raves as an opportunity to help them recognize their true potential and the "best of the best".
10. At the end of the day (or your own 30 year career), your future isn't what you are moving toward but what you are leaving behind. Make sure to make each day count.

I can't express how powerful this list is to me knowing it came from a respected educator and a true friend with a wealth of teaching experience. Jane is an amazing educator, and I'm sure retirement does not mean the end of her influence and impact on students.

Weekend in SF

This past weekend was spent in San Francisco. I flew in last Thursday and got back on Sunday (5/20). Making this trip so close to my departure seems almost frivolous, but I had some interviews with San Francisco Unified School District and would really like to work in the city. I'm hoping one of those jobs becomes a reality, as job searching is truly tedious and very worrisome. As much as everyone says, "Well, something will come up," I know my timing may be a little off. I probably should have made my departure date a little sooner. But, if need be, I can teach for a year or do lots of other things I'm sure.

I did have some time to just hang out and remind myself that this is a terrific city with wonderful sights, sounds, smells and tastes. The weekend weather was perfect with very little fog. The skies were clear. I've always felt at home in San Francisco and this weekend reaffirmed my comfort.

San Francisco is a place odd things tend to happen. Phrases like, "Oddly enough..." hold little meaning when weird stuff occurs regularly. Rusty and I met one of his coworkers at a fine gentleman's pub (otherwise known as Badlands Bar), when who should walk in but Tom Hernandez (a roommate of Rusty's from way back in our Ventura days). It was great to see Tom, even though when we were younger, we had some disagreements with Tom as we all moved out of the house on Virginia Avenue. By-gones sweeties. He looks the same and he is still with his partner of 16 years. Small world? Infinitely!

Other weird yet wonderfully endearing stuff, seeing our surrogate nephew's William and John interpretive dancing to various classical and modern musical selections (in costume none-the-less). You gotta love Montessori School and modern parenting!

Following are some pictures from a Friday afternoon at Yerba-Buena (downtown San Francisco, across from the
Museum of Modern Art).

Photo 1: The MLK Fountain. This is the top of the fountain but seemed to catch the reflection of the sunshine quite beautifully.


Photo 2: Now we know where Joe Camel went (since you can't smoke anywhere in San Francisco). This is the Zeum Carousel at Yerba Buena.


Photo 3: Rusty and I had tea in the gardens of Yerba Buena. The tea was very expensive but my Silver Springs Oolong tea was warm and soothing and wonderful for a Friday after work! (hints of ginseng and licorice, the menu extolled).



Now for the update, Rusty will be flying in next Friday so we can load all of our stuff on a truck and move it to the West coast. Rusty and Med are both driving it out there for a five day road trip before putting everything in storage.

Me? My departure is still after June 15th. Lots to do between now and then! The good-bye tour in Raleigh has officially started and will continue through the departure date I'm sure.

'Slammed' in National Poetry Month

I'm not crazy about Identified Special Interest Months. For example: African-American History Month, Latino Heritage Month, North Carolina Pork Product Month (yes, gentle reader, that last one is probably made up). In saying that, Caroleena, my connection to the soul and pulse of counter culture America, has reminded me April is National Poetry month. My love of the written word has over powered my narcisistic disdain for identified months, so I am choosing to put aside my issues with the abuse of our Roman calendar and embrace "National Poetry Month". By embrace, of course I mean the way most academics embrace things they don't understand...observe, devour, deconstruct, whatever.

Caroleena has been writing evocative poetry on her My Tribe cyber-space, the kind that makes you go, "Hmmmm!" Having passable talent with the written word, and absolutely no talent with poetry (owing to my German Heritage and being an American Man, really not much practice at being "in-touch" with my feelings), I absolutely adore Caroleena for articulating emotions often left unsaid. Fortunately, there are Caroleena's and others out there so I don't have to be talented with poetry, I can just enjoy poetry with an appreciative ear.

So, what poetry have I been enjoying lately? I've been surfing 'You Tube' for some slam poetry. For those of us pretty new to slam poetry, I'm going to blatantly steal from Wikipedia - "Slam poetry is a postmodern performance poetry, a form of spoken word performed at a competitive poetry event, called a "slam", at which poets perform their own poems (or, in rare cases, those of others) that are "judged" on a numeric scale by randomly picked members of the audience." Without pidgeon-holing slam poetry, there are definite connections to hip-hop culture especially in many of the poets' styles and cadences. Check out the following video from You Tube.


I'm not sure of my reaction to creating a competition from this art form, it seems almost antithetical to the spirit of poetry, but I enjoy the fervor, passion and energy of the poets. I'll definitely be attending a slam sometime in the near future.

My favorite form of poetry, of course, is music. So, I'll just include a few sets of lyrics that I've been listening to lately.

Third Eye Blind, Motorcyce Drive By - "You smile and say the world doesn't fit with you. I don't believe you, you're so serene. Careening through the universe. Your axis on a tilt, you're guiltless and free I hope you take a piece of me with you." This bit of poetry reminds me of so many women I have come to love - Caroline, Julie, Gail, Donna, and the rolodex goes on.

Ani DiFranco, Out of Habit - "Art is why I get up in the morning but my definition ends there and it doesn't seem fair that I'm living for something I can't even define, there you are right there, in the mean time." The entire song is a melange of phrases and feelings set to exceptional guitar skills. I've always wanted to live as if art were the reason I get up in the morning...viva la boheme.

Rocky Votolato, Suicide Medicine - "Is it the red wire or the blue wire, just pick one and cut, it just doesn’t matter anymore…" Another song of metaphor and some disturbing imagery. I like to put this on when I'm very stressed...it helps me destress.

Postal Service, Brand New Colony - "I want to take you far away from the cynics in this town and kiss you on the mouth. We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of this scene." This song...I think of Rusty.

So, friends, enjoy poetry this month and ignore my unjustified disdain for special interest months.

Other Stuff

Lenette and Carol had a great post Mardi Gras party. A few pics to give you a sense of the revelry. Pic 1: Big Pappa VooDoo and La Papillon
Pic 2: Di in a dress! Who woulda thunk it?

Pic 3: Evil or good? Who knows?


Quick other news:
- My last day for Wake County is June 15th, no I don't have a job in the bay area (but have an interview next month)
- Rusty is coming for a visit April 26. yeah.

OK, friends, enjoy National Poetry Month and all of the things that make Spring special!

Generational Mind Bender

Hello 'digital immigrants'. The following short presentation really rocked my world the other day! Please watch this to set a context for my comments.


Shift Happens - Click Here for more great videos and pictures!

As a reflective educator and life long student, I often ruminate on generational differences between myself and the 600 students in my wonderful little elementary. One big question we educators like to ponder is whether we are preparing our children for the future. The answer is no, we aren't, because we are always focusing on the content of our curriculum and we cannot imagine the needs of the future as technology and information evolve at a break-neck pace.

My generation is a generation of 'digital immigrants', the students I am teaching are considered 'digital natives'. Our kids truly have never known pre-internet days. Teachers constantly tell me that they turn to their students for assistance with technology. Many teachers are relying on the 'sit and get' method of teaching. I contend that this method is boring our students to tears. While a student myself oh so many years ago, 'multi-tasking' was all the rage. Students have surpassed the ability to multi-task and now are parallel tasking. Learning to our students involves a computer, IM messaging, streaming video, blogging, text messaging and many other forms of digital connection.

Information is easily acquired. It is no longer necessary to memorize the names of all the capitals (a skill Rusty mastered in fifth grade-by the way he can recite them in alphabetical order with their states and then do it again in reverse alphabetical order) or the Preamble to the Constitution (a skill I possess). Is content important? Sure! But I also think teaching children how to evaluate information is important. I think teaching children how to think for themselves is important. I think teaching children the importance of stillness and quiet reflection is equally important.

I am never happy because of the information I know or because I possess the skills to find information. I am happiest when hearing great music, or unexpectedly seeing a deer in the Raleigh urban area (it happened today folks), or when watchiing Caroline fire dance - all decidedly sans-technology. Technology is a great tool to teach, to learn and to entertain, but only when used effectively and when coupled with the appreciation of the simplest joys and quiet stillness...oops, slipping in a sliver of buddhism.

I love the balance achieved by Matt Harding - this young guy quite his job (computer gaming programmer) and travelled the world with friends filming him doing a stupid dance at some of the most interesting locales our planet has to offer. (check out his website: http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/) Yes, it is everyone's dream to do a similar thing...mine involves a motorcycle and travelling the left side of Canada, the US, Mexico, Central and South America...Tierra Del Fuego here I come...but Matt saved some money and he became an official slacker. Well, this caught on of course and the video and website have millions of hits. Matt is continuing to do this but now with corporate sponsorship. The balance comes from a decidedly untechnical dream (dancing badly all over the world) and using technology to accomplish the dream. I'm trying to figure out if this is irony or just interesting.

So, what does it all mean? I don't know my 'digital immigrant' friends, maybe I'll look it up on the web! Feel free to comment.

VEGAS, BABY!

My favorite line of an Elvis song is, "Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire." (Now that's poetry) My mood was jubilant as the flight touched down in the neon oasis smack dab in the middle of nowhere. A brief and expensive cab ride later, and I was ready to make my millions (starting with no more than $40 of course). What a great story to tell future generations about putting that silver dollar in a machine and hitting it big.

Who knew my nemesis would follow me to Vegas? Yes, I mean the blackjack dealer from Bosnia. Did she not know of my plan to win on just $40 and have a great story to tell? It appears she had other plans and being of sterner stuff, she was the victor. (All this fuss over $40...I know, not a huge amount to most, but we all know the real issue is I hate to lose!)

So, is there anything to do in Vegas besides gamble and drink over priced cocktails? Well, there is world travel of course. Venice, Rome, Indonesia, NY, Paris...All of the beauty of foreign destinations without having to learn a different language or eat "exotic" foods. The differences between Vegas and Epcot center are negligible. Throw down a couple of slot machines in Epcot and drop the pretense of "an educational experience" and you have the same place. It appears the backstreets of Paris and Venice are very ...sterile.

There were some highlights, of course. Rusty and I managed a show - "Blue Man Group". Their show was an awesome visual/electronic display with a bit of social commentary mixed in for good measure. I was hoping for a little more of biting hard edged German style cynicism - as is generally my want. Perhaps the most visceral experience in the show was of a river of paper flowing over the audience, this as blaring house music, and giant lighted tubes dropped from the ceiling. This bit was barely tolerated by the elderly gentleman, smelling of pipe smoke and scotch, sitting next to me. No doubt he was expecting more showgirls and nudity. The most poignant commentary came in the men's room after the show. Two post-middle age southern men can be quoted as saying, "That was the worst show I ever sall!" The response was equally telling, "I could'a sall a better show at my chruch." Hmmm...

Another highlight was the Liberace museum. Two miles off Vegas Boulevard in a strip mall, the museum begins in a converted bank and continues in a seperate building one suspects as having once been a shoe store. The museum hosts many costumes, rinestone encrusted pianos, antiques, and over-the-top cars. Conspicuously absent, of course, was any mention of his "limo" driver and any mention of dying from AIDS in the late 1980's. So, the clientele in the museum consisted of elderly women, their bored husbands, and the gays (much like the audiences of any iconic gay events-i.e. Cher concerts). "Mr. Showman" embodied the conspicuous consumption of wealth prevelant in Vegas, but with an unparalleled vengance. Liberace's costumes could weigh up to 200 pounds. Not bad for a man weighing in somewhere around 180 pounds.



My favorite parts of Vegas had nothing to do with casinos or shows. Rather, the sunsets and sunrises viewed from our hotel room reminded me how vibrant and beautiful the desert skies can become in a matter of minutes. Spending time with Lenette, Carol, Janet, Julie, Ryan, and Rusty had to be the best part of the trip. Leaving Vegas was bittersweet as breaking up a group of traveling friends always leaves me wanting for more. To say nothing of the fact that managing a relationship on two weekends a month is frustrating at best. Our relationship has flourished in much greater challenges, owing to the strength of communication, respect, and love.

Caroline, my muse and conscience, and I were having beers discussing the overall mood of Vegas. Caroline mentioned the undercurrent of desperation that is omnipresent. I take issue with that, not so much the word 'desperation' rather the word 'undercurrent', this adjective is way too mild. One can smell and see the desperation at every slot machine and table, the uncomfortable laughter at loosing money consistently, the worried looks on faces, even the forced joy of winning twenty dollars after having lost $100 the night before. Several locations in the US always remind me of an almost Gestapo like forced fun. Vegas is one such place. In saying that, I did have a good time, and I do think everyone should experience "Sin-City" for themselves. Good Luck!

Aussie Day - 2007

Just posting a few photos from Australia Day, 2007. Everyone got into the spirit of Australia's most memorable reason for drinking and marching in parades - Do Aussies really need a reason for those activities?


Julie giving Mark Belly Dancing lessons. Not a typical Aussie Day activity but surely a typical Julie activity...Bless her heart!


Truly Aussie Dags...Nuff said!


A trifeccta of fabulousness.

It'll take a year to recover from this Australia Day, so let the recovery begin.

Of Icicles and Mormons

Mid-January, Rusty and I decided to meet in Vegas, then drive to Cedar City, Utah. Don't ask me why two non-skiers agreed to visit Bev and Doug in what must be the frigidaire of the nation in mid-January. So cold and windy, the icicles had a tendency to freeze with a finger like intensity. Our hosts provided relaxation, endless hours of fascinating conversation, coffee, wine, great food and a disarming warmth hard to pull off with the cold looming at the back door. Gail, my closest high school friend and keeper of all of my secrets from the past, flew in from Idaho. Everyone in the family now lives in the area. I've always considered myself fortunate in that I have two equally wonderful families from which to draw my history and values. From Bev and Doug and the entire Everett clan I draw unconditional love, mutual respect and a sense of wonder for the ordinary and the extraordinary in life. Part of what I am and what I may become can be attributed to lots of coffee chats at the house on Knox Avenue in Ventura.
To finish this up, I also want to include a few mini photos from the trip. The first is of Di and Owen (affectionatly known as Auntie Di) What a wonderfully odd and excessively fun couple. Di helped me acquire my first job working with children at the YMCA afterschool "camp".The second is of Bev, Doug, and Maggie (an ethereal strange angel with as fascinating a history as one can hope for in this short 90 years walking the planet) at Rusty's Roadhouse,
and finally their crazy K-9 who insists on sitting on any piece of furniture in the room (no matter if the surface area of his behind matches the available surface area of the furniture). Quirky? Yes. Very Everett? Precisely. Thank you Bev and Doug for hosting and for sitting through a good sixty minutes of me going on and on about my dissertation (as Rusty says, "Blah, blah...Queer Theory...blah, blah identity management...."- he has a point!) until we meet again, I certainly will miss you both.