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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