on my knees
november 8
East Bay
Two things have recently brought me to my knees, and it's not what you're thinking,
though it did strike me funny how a milk crate came in handy one sunny morning at a
nearby park. The first is somewhat intangible yet very affective: by mistake I deleted my
address book from my computer.
Phone numbers, e-mail addresses, mailing addresses, everybody from my mom to my list of
free web sites to advertise on, all gone. I'm not the best at keeping in contact, but
now I'm hopeless. My mom mailed out a list of my family's info, and
I'm slowly rebuilding my data base with index cards. If you think we should be in contact,
please e-mail me with your information.
The second thing literally has to do with my knee, the left to be specific. A month or so
ago I had done something to it at a Saturday practice. I got it iced and wrapped up, and
as soon as the next day I was starting to do my own rehab and by Monday I was running
again. That Tuesday I went through a whole practice no problem. I took Thursday off so I
would be in good shape for Harlotfest the next week.
That Saturday, just running, it happened again, and it happened a lot worse than the first
time and there I was rolling on the ground in the worse pain since my root canal. This time
I knew I had to go see a doctor, especially since I was told I'd have to provide a doctor's
clearance before I could play again.
But I had two movies to see that day! I was driven to the after practice social, and a
couple hours later I was helped to my truck by two of the hunkiest Fog players- I was
already working the sympathy- and by then I could actually drive my truck to the Castro for the
first cinema event, a Kurosawa film I hadn't yet seen, and who knows when it would be on
a big screen again.
Can I just testify that Yoshiro Mifune was one of the hottest men to stand before a
camera? For anyone who says 'I don't generally find Asian men attractive', please get your
tired ass out to your local freaky video store and rent some of Kurosawa's movies, any of
the ones with Mifune.
I parked in the outer reaches of the Castro and knew I could not get there on my own power,
but I also had faith that someone would offer to help me get to the theatre and sure
enough, I found a friend.
After the film I felt I had enough strength to hobble half a block to a trolley and I made
my way to the Community Center for a showing of short films by the Cockettes. If you
don't know who I'm talking about then get on a search engine and find out how to see the
movie David Weissman did about the San Francisco performance troupe The Cockettes. It's
vital queer history you need to know.
You especially need to know if you're someone who believes that laughter is the best
medicine and your left knee is in pain and that the Cockettes did a drag parody of Richard
Nixon's daughter's wedding called 'Trisha's Wedding'. I had seen a clip from 'Trisha's
Wedding' in the Cockette's movie and wished I could one day see it and when I found out
the Community Center was showing it, nothing was going to stop me.
All the clips were treasures, and the ending to 'Elevator Girls in Bondage' was the
morphine I needed for my knee. And yes, I found a kindred spirit to drive me back to my
car, god does indeed support the arts.
Somewhere during this fucked up leg stage my studly friend Nick Name visited the city and we
caught up and had a great time doing the Castro Street Fair, inadvertently looking like
inbreds with our shaved heads, walking around shirtless in green pants. I couldn't walk
very fast but there was no need, and the eye candy was bountiful.
When I found out that I would need surgery on my knee, I decided to spend my mobile days
doing stuff I wouldn't be able to do soon. By this time the swelling and pain had
subsided enough that in the right baggy pants, my limping looked like confident swagger,
and I worked it as much as I could. I decided to celebrate one of my last walking nights
at a local bathhouse, primarily to soak in the jacuzzi of course.
A good friend of mine, Dan from LA, was in town on business and I picked him up at the
scary Jack London Square, by day a mild mannered theme mall, by night a seedy dog patch
fit for Phillip Marlowe. My curiosity did increase when Dan said Greek and
Armenian shipworkers showed up shirtless for the communal continental breakfast.
I took Dan on a tour of South of Market bars, about the only interesting thing I could
come up with for a Monday night, and at the Hole in the Wall, the sexy surly Latino
bartender (for anyone who says 'I don't generally find surly Latin men attractive'...)
put in a copy of 'The Omen' with cryptic, half readable subtitles. All we could figure
out was that this rich family drove in limos all the time and had a spoiled brat kid.
But when the chauffeur took them to a rugby match, I practically flew off the bench in
a flash of fire.
For Tuesday, my last day of freedom, I saw a couple good movies, 'The Pinochet Case' and
'The Trials of Henry Kissinger'. I highly recommend them both. It's amazing how much of
the news is kept from the public, and how much some people get away with and still manage
to escape prosecution. And did I already suggest 'Bowling for Columbine?' That night I
enjoyed my last plow session, a sexy muscled up artist who lived in my old neighborhood.
But back to entertainment, I will also suggest 'The Ring' because I love Naomi Watts ('Mulholland Drive'- back to the
local freaky video store) and that guy she co-stars with (not the super creepy kid) who
they hardly even show in the preview, he's gorgeous! Who is he? If you don't like being spooked out of
your seat, just go to watch him and cover your eyes during the scary parts.
So, who has a crutch fetish? I look really hot in my scrubs and t-shirt and crutches. Act
now, this is a limited time offer, I won't be on crutches for long. My Ace bandage will be
up for bid as well.
what I'm reading right now: The Artist Way (again).
what song I can't get out of my head: 'Haven't Got Time for the Pain', Carly Simon.
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