Oh, the nostalgia

Inappropriate Crushes #512 & 513

I know it's just wrong for me to be crushin on a 23 year-old guy, but there's just no getting around it. I do. I am. Whatever.

The guy in question is Graham Ackerman, an NCAA gymnast who just happens to have had the courage to come out while still competing. And he's a two-time champion. Go Graham.

Anyway, he's gotten a lot of national gay press. I guess that shouldn't be a big surprise. Not a lot of college athletes are out, especially competing at his level.

So there you have it.

It doesn't hurt that he's got this whole hot-nerd thing going on. I'm tres fond of the hot nerd. The hot nerd, in my weltanschauung, is right up there with the pocket gay. I'm just saying.

I've always had a bit of a thing for gymnasts. They're usually short, which is a good thing (see above), and they're awfully close, body-wise, to wrestlers. And, well, without going into too much detail, let's just say that some of my formative experiences revolve around wrestlers and wrestling.

So I have an inappropriate crush on a youngster. Look on the bright side. I could be a stalker!

Speaking of people I could consider stalking (were we even talking about that?), I came across pictures of former World Aerobics Champion Nick Beyeler recently (courtesy of the ever-entertaining Scott-O-Rama), and have decided he might be -- if we're having pie-in-the-sky wishes, here - the ultimate "don't ever leave me alone in a room with him and expect me to remain faithful" guy.

Not unlike a certain friend of Ken's, this guy is pretty much genetically engineered to drive me mad. Thankfully, I've grown enough as a human to know that I would very likely not elicit a corresponding reaction were we to ever meet, so I can just kinda look happily and move on. Still. Wicked hot. Yowza.

Maybe There Is a God...

Because I really didn't think anyone would believe me, this according the accuweather.com at 3:44 p.m. today:

Last month, on today's date the weather was nice, and I had some time to myself, so I decided to go and try to capture some shots of the Flatiron Building, my second-favorite building in New York City.

As it turns out, the Flatiron was undergoing some sort of exterior work, so that pretty much ruined any chance of getting a great shot of the building. I had to settle for the one at the left. Nice enough, but not quite what I was looking for, I guess.

Still, the day was great, and I managed to get a couple shots I like, including this one of the Empire State Building. Again, not the best ever, but I like it.

Probably my favorite of the day was one I didn't expect at all. This is a shot across Madison Square Park. The tall building with the clock on it is pretty famous, though I'll be durned if I know what the name of it is. At night, it's usually lit up like a brightly colored wedding cake. I'm sure the locals could tell you what the color scheme means but, again, I'm clueless. Maybe someday I'll figure it out. Or one of you fine folk can tell me.

Kill Me. Now.

I'm praying this is a joke...

I Shite You Not

This is totally going to be me someday:

Easter

Ken was kind enough to invite a bunch of us to his abode for an Easter repast not to be forgotten. It's times like these when I remember the chief reason for me to just shut up about my own beliefs (or lack thereof) and just enjoy these Christian Holy Days, when people gather together and share fellowship.

And kick-ass food.

I stopped first at Topher's place, and we caught up while waiting for our friend Mary to arrive, so we could all make the ungodly trek to Queens together.

Topher and Mary are pretty seriously-dedicated Manhattanites. I think this might have been Topher's first trip to Ken's Queens exile-atorium in all the years they've known each other -- which is a lot longer than I've known Topher. Still, they were game, and managed to survive the trip out on the 7 train, even if they did come perilously close to starving.

Thank god for store-bought, pre-packaged cashews.

Eventually, we made it, and it was kinda fun to see Topher explore Ken's apartment -- in which he's lived for 20 years -- like a puppy plopped down in a new and bigger place. Ken's place is deceptively big. He's got it packed with 20 years worth of accumulated stuff, so it kinda feels a little smaller than it is. Still, he could rival our dear friend Janet (she of Doug and Janet fame) for Martha-Stewartiness, so it's incredibly homey (is that even a word?) and warm.

Speaking of Doug and Janet, they were at the dinner party too. That's Janet with Mary up there to the left, and Doug and Janet on the train back to Manhattan on the right.

That's right, friends. Sooner or later you must return from whence you came. Or, at least, you gotta get your ass outta Queens at a reasonable hour.

But our time in "The Queens" was lovely, and Ken is, indeed, the host with the most.

Thanks Ken, and Happy Easter.

Amazing...

Watch for the kid in the red shirt. Amazing.

Another Reason...

...to adore Shakespeare's Sister:

Christian-Bashing Unabated Nationwide Study Shows

Spring is Sprung

Okay, I admit it. I'm seriously excited about the arrival of spring. Despite the fact that my allergies are a mess and I feel like there's constantly phlegm caked on my vocal cords (nice image, huh?) I still dig it.

I found out recently that one of my favorite groups, Girlyman, has a new album out, so I ordered it. I've discovered that I love it every bit as much as I liked their first, which is a bit unusual for me. Here's a sample. Rush out and love them.

A friend of mine also recently turned me on to an artist who's making all sorts of waves, Sufjan Stevens. That's him to the left. I'm really enjoying his latest album, Illinois, and considering going backward through his oeuvre. Not only is he talented, he's wicked hot.

Ah, the arrival of spring. That time when young men's (and not-so-young men's) thoughts turn to l'amour. Or at least lust. Or at least moreso than they do through the dark of winter.

Oh, who am I kidding? My thoughts turn to lust pretty much continually.

Speaking of my thoughts turning to lust:

Even though I don't usually need a reason to post a picture of a hot guy, I'll make up a flimsy excuse: Justin Timberlake is going to be appearing in New Line's Alpha Dog, which got a lot of attention at Sundance. This is not to say that I think it'll be good, but it'll be interesting to see if he can act. The film's actually got a couple of young actors I enjoy, including Shawn Hatosy and Ben Foster (right).

Here's hoping it doesn't suck.

Again, who am I kidding. Like I'm gonna care?

Today at work, my friends and I decided to pick up our lunch from the cafeteria and eat it out in Columbus Circle. I, of course, brought my camera.

My dear friend Stephanie -- knowing how much I loathe pictures of myself -- took one of me that she knew I couldn't complain about. She's right. I love it. It captures me perfectly.

I took a couple photos of which I'm particularly fond, too.

I especially like the one to the right. I've decided to call it My Accomplishments Can Beat Up Your Accomplishments. If you can figure out why, you get the prize. I think maybe only a New Yorker could possibly get it... but then again, who knows? Maybe a webfriend from Tokyo knows what's all about.

Let's just say the two guys involved have overblown egos.

I'll leave the rest up to your imagination.

The other two I liked best were shots of Time Warner Center, a building which endlessly fascinates me.

I think that I've mentioned it's an object of much controversy. A lot of New Yorkers weren't happy that a tall building with two -- dare I say "twin?" -- towers was being built in the aftermath of 9/11. And a lot of people think it's just plain ugly.

I go back and forth, but I somehow can't stop myself from photographing it. I think it has to do with its plate-glass facade. It fascinates me in the same way that the PPG complex in Pittsburgh fascinates. That's it to the left there.

It's another one that amazes me. It's all the glass, the constantly changing facade -- the changing light, the changing, reflected cloudscape. I don't know how to explain it. No one ever said I was eloquent. Least of all when I'm trying to describe my feelings about something. Welcome to my Irish Catholic Hell.

Interesting anecdote about taking those snaps of PPG place. I was standing there shooting that one of the fountain, and a security guard actually came over and told me I wasn't allowed to photograph the building. I was utterly amazed. That's the level of the paranoia that's taken ahold of our country. A guy with a camera is possibly a dangerous... well, I don't want to type a word that's going to bring my site to the attention of Big Brother.

There's a famous quote from a German pastor at the end of WWII:

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.

Pastor Martin Niemöller

When Big Brother comes for me, I hope you'll speak up.

In any case, lunch was a nice break. For some reason, today at work just seemed crazy-busy. I'm glad to have survived.

One last thing. I noted this with interest the other day. Just another aspect of the wicked crazy going on in America. Just for the record: The athiests I do know are some of the most ethical, conscientious, considerate people I've ever met. They hold themselves to a higher standard than any god could.

So take that, you crazy, morally slippery Christians.

Look, Up in the Sky....

You are Superman

You are mild-mannered, good, strong and you love to help others.

Superman: 85%
Robin: 77%
Spider-Man: 70%
Hulk: 60%
Green Lantern: 55%
Wonder Woman: 52%
Supergirl: 52%
Catwoman: 50%
The Flash: 50%
Batman: 45%
Iron Man: 30%


Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz

I'm Safe

I've gotten more than one inquiry, so I shouldn't let this bit of news sit idle any longer: Yes, indeed, I've found a new place to live. It's a year sublet from a really nice guy who's off to do Utah Shakes, and then to study in London.

I'm taking the place I saw on April 1st. As I put it to Charlene's owner in an e-mail:

"I'm banishing myself to the wilds of Brooklyn (further out, even, than I lived before!), to the working-class neighborhood of Bushwick. The hipsters and artistes who're slowly being priced out of Williamsburg (home to Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams, natch) are migrating there and trying to dub it 'East Williamsburg.' The locals are having none of it."

So, there you have it. I'm all set, and you can stop worrying yourself about my well-being. Well, you can at least stop worrying about me being homeless. You can still worry yourself about whether the stress of moving again so soon will cause a brain aneurysm. Thankfully, there'll be less havoc in the run-up to the move, since I have less to pack.

Another good thing is that the apartment has a lot of storage and closet space. So for the first time in a while, most of my shirts can actually hang on hangers. I'm beside myself with glee.

Let Me Reiterate...

...I know exactly how she feels. "Ugh. How in hell did I end up here?"

Stewart v. McCain

I didn't always agree with John McCain, and I realize the man has to do what he has to do to get elected, but, really?

Terminally Cute

This was one of a number of photos my mom forwarded me in an email about painfully cute things. You know how much I love forwarded crap.

But this one made me smile. Thank god that man's left hand is where it is, or I'd be going to jail for kiddie porn.

La Tourista

Kenjiman's sister Robbie was in town over the weekend.

I'd not met her before, so it was nice to finally make her acquaintance.

Ken, his sister, and I had planned to meet for brunch at 10 a.m. on Sunday morning, but I got a call from him at the appointed hour telling me that they'd gotten in late the night before and had only just then gotten out of bed.

Since I was standing in front of the little restaurant where we were to meet, I decided it was high time I did some walking around lower Manhattan.

Some of the architecture of the old buildings in lower Manhattan -- particularly in the financial district -- is really quite striking. It's impossible, for me at least, not to wander the streets of that area with my head tilted back and my neck craning to see the tops of the towers. These grand old stone and iron edifices with their cornices and gargoyles and scrolled ironwork are like behemoths out of a forgotten age. Every time I wander the area, I'm stunned by how massive they are, and how delicate they look.

They look, to me, like nothing so much as ancient castles on steroids. In a good way, not in a Barry Bonds way.

One thing's obvious about the builders of these monuments to the gilded age: Their builders took themselves very seriously, and had absolutely no sense of irony. Witness the huge plaque above the entrance to Ninety-Nine Church Street. The text, from a speech by Daniel Webster before Congress, reads "Commercial credit is the creation of modern times and belongs -- in its highest perfection -- only to the most enlightened and best-governed nations. Credit is the vital air of the system of modern commerce. It has done more -- a thousand times more -- to enrich nations than all the mines of the world."

Lighten up, pal.

And by the way, why are the hot woodsman and the impossibly hot, smoothly-manscaped craftsman (blacksmith?) holding hands like that? Okay, I accept it as a gesture of brotherhood and camraderie, but really? Look at the way they're gazing into each other's eyes.

Apparently modern commerce is also built on homosexual love.

I'm just saying. Regardless, I want that guy's abs.

Anyway, Ken and Robbie eventually made it downtown, and we had a nice brunch at The Soda Shop on Chambers Street. I highly recommend it for those of you in the area.

The nice thing about having friends and family visit you in town is that you get to do touristy things you mightn't otherwise do.

To wit: I've lived in NYC five years (my fifth anniversary is in eight days, friends), and I've never been to the top of the Empire State Building. Since Robbie wanted to go, we made our way.

Surprisingly, the lines were relatively short, and the day gloriously beautiful. It was well worth the Gauntlet of Crass Commerce we had to run to get to the observation deck.

Below are some cool pictures.


Ken and Robbie:

The view looking north/northwest:

My beloved Chrysler Building:

"Remember me to Herald Square:"

Looking south. That skyline still looks wrong to me, even 4 years later:

The Flatiron Building, another of my favorites:

This is How I Feel Lately...

As an Added Bonus...

I've seen the apartment, and it's quite nice. I don't know if I love the neighborhood or the fact that it's going to be a bitch-ass commute to work (or, franky anywhere I want to go... it's mere minutes from being, jeebus help me, in Queens, and we all know how I like that idea). Let's remember, though, that I felt much the same way about moving from Manhattan to Brooklyn in the beginning.

But the price is right (and I mean really right), and this is one of the intersections I discovered while exploring the neighborhood. It has, at least, this to recommend it.

The Hunt Begins

I NY

I had one of those fabulous "only in New York or another large cosmopolitan city" evenings last night.

Topher and I met up and went to the Met to see a concert in which his friend Michelle was performing. It was a benefit for an organization called Lighthouse International, an organization that helps people who are blind or visually-impaired. A good cause, indeed.

First, however, we went for a glass of wine on the balcony of the main gallery at the Met, which is just about the most civilized thing one can do -- evenings (or, I should say, Friday evenings, at least -- they have string quartet or some equally mellow instrumental combo playing, and it's nice to sit and watch the comings and goings.

We spent a little time listening to the concert in the Temple of Dendur, but wandered away to look at the collection, as I'd not been to the Met in some time, and wanted to see some of my favorite pieces.

I do so love the Met. Every time I go back there, I'm surprised again at how much I love it. And Topher was kind enough to share some of his favorite hideaways with me. Really beautiful.

We wandered all over the place, from the Egyptian collection, to the impressionists, to the sculpture halls and the photography exhibits.

Wonderful evening.

As I was taking my camera out and snapping shots of my favorite artwork, Topher made a remarkably astute observation -- one that I'd never realized about myself before: I like my art spacial. Architecture. Sculpture. Furniture. Oh, I enjoy paintings -- mostly anything before the era of "modern art," but the things that really excite me are the things that exist in three dimensions, that fill up space.

There's just no getting around it: Rodin is my favorite sculptor.

For, I suppose, obvious reasons.

I do love me some impressionists, but van Gogh never jumps out at me until, of course, I'm presented with his work in person. Though there's just no way a photograph (particularly one taken by me) can do it justice, just imagine seeing this in person. How thickly the paint's laid on, the brushstrokes. It's amazing.


Really remarkable.

You know what else I can't get enough of? Stained glass. Really beautiful stained glass. And not the stuff that's made for cathedrals and pictures biblical scenes. I prefer the stuff that's done as art for art's sake. The Met has a number of really, really striking pieces, but I think this one will always be my favorite.

This is one of the things I love most about living in New York. Being able to go to the Met and just hang out. There're a ton of places where you're welcome to just sit and contemplate. Look. Read a book. It doesn't matter. And when you turn your page, you can look up and see a masterpiece by van Gogh. A statue by Rodin. An entire room designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. The famous portrait of Washington crossing the Delaware.

Jeebus, I love this place.

After the concert, and Topher had a chance to say hello to his friend, we made our way over to the Film Center Cafe to wait for Ken and his sister to finish seeing 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. I had seen the musical last week on a date that ended up not going anywhere, but that's okay: I found the musical delightful and clever. And a little shocking -- it has no problem with messing with political correctness. Which I dug.

I snapped that shot of Topher (which he'll no doubt hate!) while we waited for Kenjiman and his sister Roblyn(n?), who's visiting from Ohio. She's a bit of a corker, and doesn't mind jumping in there when we're playfully kicking Ken's butt. I snapped this picture of them on the train platform when we were all going home.

All-in-all, dear webfriends, it was a bit of a kick-ass day.