into the groove
October 27

Los Angeles


Anthrax changed to Basket of Puppies? That's what my friend Dylan told me and I laughed, it had to be a goof, but apparently the band Anthrax decided their image needed an upgrade.

What's up with the caution of linking the anthrax scare with The Terrorists, this 'we don't have conclusive proof' crap? I may have missed something, but where is the conclusive proof linking the attacks to Bin Laden? If the question is ignored long enough, does it no longer count?

Last weekend: I spent an hour at Dylan's watching a special about Madonna that promised little known facts and unseen footage. After an hour of variations on 'I saw her get in a limo and never heard from her again' I hightailed it east to get some carnal recreation, with the agreement that since I wasn't dating anyone, casual sex was alright as long as I didn't make any more of it than that. Got some. Actually, got plenty.

Last week: I had to listen not only to Rush Limbaugh but Dr. Horror Schlessinger as I finished up some tasks for one of my gardening clients. I had no choice, so I tried to see what I could glean from such talk radio, I believe it's important to hear other points of view. And now I can't recall anything valuable, just that's there's lots of pain being played out on the airwaves.

Just a couple days earlier the same client asked me my thoughts on the bombing. I let the question hang in the air after the response to my "first, I'd want to see some proof..." was "we already have the proof, how would you feel if it was like a close brother who died in the World Trade Center?" and I couldn't say. Yes, I am a pacifist, but I also realize that I live in a rarified world and maybe I would feel different if I had been raised in another country. And yet this person is so sweet, has so much love, and is one of my favorite people, as long as we leave politics and religion out of our conversations.

Last week: I had a pornstar moment at the gym. This is the same gym where I've seen Jeff Palmer and the Italian escort Massimo, among others, working out. That day it was Ren Adams and Rex Chandler, I made a mental note, finished my workout and headed off to my gardening job. Didn't see either of them in the showers. Oddly, the guys I see in the showers are not the ones I see on the floor. One of them followed me out to my bike and I needed to explain that no, I don't wanna get your number, no, I'm not gonna give you mine. No scrubs.

This weekend: I don't know what stars were in alignment, but everybody wanted to get in my jacuzzi. This happens once in a blue moon (one's coming up) and then dissipates as quickly as it appears. Friday night was one of those times. My dinner date wanted me to stay, the doorman at the warehouse party wanted to escort me to my car, the bartender at the bar where the rugby team is going to have a sports night stared into my eyes and his boss held my hand a little longer than necessary. But by Saturday afternoon, even dogs crossed the street.

I added another 'never done this before' stunt to my list of stupid things. My left eye had some sore under my top lid, I went to a clinic and got some antibiotic and orders not to wear contacts for a week. Well, I didn't want to wreck my punk Halloween costume, so I drove without my left lens in. Never again, unless it's an emergency. I had taken the saying 'Fashion is never comfortable' way too far. At least I was smart enough to keep to little used roads.

Yesterday: was working on a new piece of music and got close to tears, always a good sign, when that happens I feel I'm channeling one of my favorite composers. Yesterday, it felt like Copeland.

Last night: I had another session with the client with the world's most amazing ass. I don't know what he's got inside there, but I need to bring another guy over to verify my opinion. It was worth missing the ending to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (great opening credits!), which I was watching at Dylan's.

Today: got up early and took a hike in the park. On the way out this guy cruised me, then parked ahead of me, then opened his car door so I could see him masturbate. He had no pants on at all! I had to wrap my sweatshirt around my waist to cover my package, and continued my brisk walk home. As I passed the middle school, some guy who had just dropped off his kid cruised me from his SUV, maybe it's more than the blue moon right now, I'll leave that question unanswered.

What I'm reading: Coaching for Rugby Football, Venables
What songs I can't get out of my head: 'Crystal', New Order, 'In the Waiting Line', Zero7.

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