Menu Close

2000

Pride 2000

I’d like to announce the first annual San Francisco Brunette Chestnut Auburn Dirty Blond and Multi-hued Pride Festival. Members of the BCADBMH community from around the country will be participating to celebrate our pride in our pigmentation and our glorious brunette culture.

Several brunette bands (chosen for their hair color rather than their talent, of course) will be playing at the center stage. You can buy “I’m not a brunette but my boyfriend is” T-shirts along with miniature brunette pride flags just across the street in the Marketplace.

We expect a turnout of several thousand of our BCADBMH brothers and sisters, not to mention a few hundred supportive blondes and redheads. We anticipate a few protestors from the Ex-Brunette Ministries armed with Clairol, peroxide, and the like, but our security forces will keep them at bay.

The festival aims to be inclusive. There will be marchers from many individuals and groups who define themselves solely in terms of their hair color. Participants will include groups such as the PBBEG (Pacific Bell Brunette Employees Guild, PFAB (Parents and Friends of All Brunettes), QOHC (Questioning Our Hair Color) and the LGHBL (League of Gray-haired Brunette Lovers). Floats from several of San Francisco’s BCADBMH bars and nightclubs will also be featured.

So come on out. Celebrate your hair color and the fabulous music, art, and fashion which naturally spring from this inborn characterisitc. Show your stuff: hats are allowed, but not encouraged.

The festival is sponsored by Acronym Power, Inc.

San Francisco Sanity Breaks

Had dinner at a place called The Dead Fish in Crockett Friday night with Dan and Jamie. It was a good place, but not the dive that the name and building suggested. We were all suckered in. Thinking it had been there for ages, we asked the waitress when the place opened. “November 23,” she replied.

Oh well. They had great scallops anyway.

Afterwards we drove through downtown Crockett and Port Costa. Great un-yuppified river towns, both of them. Not a Starbuck’s nor a smoothie shop in sight. Only a half hour out of San Francisco and you can completely forget you’re in the Bay Area. Which is often a very good thing.

I have a few friends here who are proud to say they never leave San Francisco except maybe on vacation. I don’t understand. Getting out of the city occasionally is almost essential for maintaining sanity. And I say this as someone who doesn’t much care for the country.

I leave San Francisco at least once (and usually two or three times) every weekend, to enjoy things like pizza in Hayward, thrift store runs in Redwood City, bookstores in Santa Rosa, doughnuts in Union City, and the sheer magic of driving through just about any part of Oakland. Half the fun of living in the Bay Area is that there is so very much intersting stuff surrounding it.

A car helps, but it’s not essential. Take BART to Berkeley. Grab a CalTrain to Gilroy or a ferry to Vallejo. There’s a whole interesting world out there despite our snobbish dismissals of “the ‘burbs”. It might do many San Franciscans a world of good to realize this fact and experience the rest of the planet (or at least the rest of the Bay Area) once in a while.

To Santa Monica

Off to Santa Monica. I did not catch up on email. I have not packed. I still have some work to do. I don’t care. I’m leaving. Apologies to anyone affected by any of the above. See you in a few days…

Quick LA Trip


Photo by Duncan…

I’ve been to Southern California again and lived to tell about it.

Actually, I like LA, although I stop just shy of loving it. Even acknowledging its existence, of course, is not something most San Franciscans like to do. Contrary to our long-held assumptions, LA is considerably more important on a national (and worldwide) scale and it DOES have culture. I’ve always known this.

I’m even going back in a few weeks for a longer trip. This was a quick trip and was pretty consumed by hanging out with the stars of The WB and chatting up some cute boy from Syracuse at their glamorous party in Santa Monica. We did, however, make it to the world’s oldest standing Bob’s Big Boy in Toluca Lake, and I saw the water tower where the Animaniacs live. LA may be the greatest place in the world for those long, pointless drives I love so. Had a great time, all in all.

Duncan’s still visiting and I’m not in the mood to type, so I’ll hand over the front page to him now:

“Greetings to Planet SOMA and its readers… How y’all doin’?”

Duncan adds that he doesn’t really sound like that when he talks. More soon…

The Rest of the Weekend

Took Duncan to the airport this morning, hit the supermarket, and then experienced SF Gay Pride firsthand as I tried to find a parking space in the same zip code as my house. I repeat my call for the parade to be shifted back to its old route (ending in the Finacial District rather than Civic Center, which is way too close to home).

Now, groceries stowed (if a little wilted after driving around in circles), I’m munching on a chocolate doughnut from Alberston’s and watching Fatal Vision on A&E. I’m Proud™ to be home, Proud™ not to be wearing an ugly white tank top and rainbow beads, and VERY Proud™ not be sweating or sunburned.

I may vacuum later, once again using the Glade Carpet Neutralizer which means I can’t smell the embedded cigarette smoke, even though everyone else probably still can.

Duncan’s visit was fun. In addition to Santa Monica, we made some nice long drives to nowhere (a patented Planet SOMA activity) and ate well. I finally saw the second series of Tales of the City and we hit the corner saloon briefly on Thursday night. A couple of nice men fondled me while Duncan waited patiently at the bar. And we had dinner with Dan and Jamie on Friday night.

 

It’s very much whetted my appetite for some more time in LA. Details to come. For now I’m Proud™ that I have plenty of toilet paper so I don’t have to leave the house again today…

Be forewarned that this picture has absolutely nothing to do with anything else on today’s front page…

Well, some days it’s just fun coming home and reading the email. Today’s collection brought an offer to write essays for an actual printed magazine (for money even) and an interview for an upcoming article in the Portland Oregonian. I think this is my first actual legitimate newspaper interview. My importance to the article will be minimal; I’ll be coy and say that the subject invoved bottles…

So all in all, I’m feeling pretty happy with today. My ego has been stroked. And I’m still happy about how nicely several other parts of my body were stroked Sunday at the corner sex bar. Note to cute spiky-haired boy: spitting is not really any more or less “safe” than swallowing. And watch those teeth, dammit…

Sorry. I was just practicing for the essay gig; it’s supposed to be vaguely sex-related, and since I don’t really write about sex much lately (as there hasn’t been much sex to write ABOUT lately), I’m a little out of practice…

The length of that last sentence might have cost me the job anyhow…

Digital Reminiscing

Vague nostalgia this afternoon. After reading the nice things Becky said about me on her new site, I started thinking back to who inspired me as I was getting started with Planet SOMA back in the dark ages of the mid 1990s.

Unfortunately, a lot of the sites I was looking at back in 1995 and 1996 no longer exist, with the notable exception of Justin’s Links from the Underground, which could easily be called the grandfather of the personal web site. I guess it’s been a primary inspiration over the years, even though I rarely stop by anymore.

The personal sites I look at regularly these days would include these:

I don’t get around much these days. Life is about spending less time in front of the computer, not more time…

Neither do I spend as much time on email. I was moving all my archived mail from ZIP disks to my hard drive today and I looked at some of the older stuff. I realized that:

  • I used to engage in serious ongoing correspondence (daily even) with people I’d never met. I don’t do nearly as much of this now.
  • I used to have email relationships with a few people which were considerably more flirtatious than I remember.
  • There are a lot fewer people using AOL than there used to be. Or at least a lot fewer of them are contacting me.

I’ve reached the bottom of the page and I’m hungry, so I’ll stop short of tying this all together into ny sort of coherent thought or theme.

Sex, Resolutions, and Things I Love

I made a boy grits this morning, after having been awake with him most of the night. Use your imagination…

It was a little odd. I haven’t brought anyone much home in a long time, much less allowed them to spend the night and get the whole breakfast package. I had no intention of doing so last night either. I was already worn out at midnight, and I really intended to have one quick beer at My Place, maybe avail myself of the backroom, and come home to sleep.

Anyway, I had fun. He was cute as a bug’s ear, intelligent, and even nice. I barely noticed that he was (gasp) 13 years younger than me. I wouldn’t even mind a second go-round, which means I’ll probably never hear from him again.

All the same, I sure would like to have had just a little bit more sleep last night…

Resolutions for July:

  • Quit smoking.
  • Answer the email a bit faster.
  • Pursue design and writing jobs more aggressively.
  • Eliminate the part-time job I hate so much.
  • Do the laundry once a month whether I need to or not.
  • Obtain health insurance with the money I’ve saved by not smoking.

I should be able to do all those things, shouldn’t I?

Things I love today:

  • Safeway Select Garlic Lovers’ Salsa
  • The idea of being asleep in half an hour or so.
  • Andy Griffith Mondays on Nick-at-Nite.

Superlatives du Jour

Best unexpected song heard in a queer bar this weekend:

  • “Ah Leah” by Donnie Iris.

Most idiotic comment heard on the Discovery Channel this weekend:

  • “If it weren’t for George Washington, it’s quite possible we’d all be speaking Canadian now.”

This Week in…

Until today, it had apparently happened to just about everyone in San Francisco but me. I was so excited that it was finally my turn to get hit in the head by a nice big gob of pigeon shit while walking down Seventh Street.

Other than that, though, it’s been a passable week. There was slutdom on Saturday night, followed by a different flavor of slutdom on Monday night, dinner and fireworks with Dan and Jamie on Tuesday night, and lots of sleep on Wednesday. I think I’ve recovered just in time for the upcoming weekend.

Sixteen years ago this week, I was dumping a boyfriend and actively seeking a replacement. Fourteen years ago this week, I was dealing with someone who sort of became a boyfriend but sort of didn’t. Thirteen years ago this week I was still dealing with him. Nine years ago this week, I had finally learned that having boyfriends was no fun and I was being a major slut on a two-month trip to Charlotte. Three years ago this week, I reconsidered briefly but I came to my senses pretty fast, and I’ve pretty much stayed sane ever sense.

While we’re in the archives (for this month’s “I can’t think of any original content” journal entry):

  • Twenty years ago this week, I stole my mom’s car. I was not yet 16. She suspected. It was not pretty.
  • Fifteen years ago this week, I quit being the rock and roll DJ at the local queer bar. I still stick by that decision and was proud of my stand to protect the downtrodden heterosexuals of the world.
  • Two years ago this week, I was taking on the idiots who wear giant backpacks in crowded bars at night. They continue to annoy me.
  • This week last year, I was having my annual midlife crisis. Let’s not speak of 1999 again. I didn’t enjoy most of it.