On a Single Ray of Sanity in the Darkness

Or

Maybe there is hope for us after all.

Who knew all I had to do was beg, and the Nigerian stoning sentence got overturned?

On the fact that the world is being Fed-Exed straight to Hell

Or

Some people don't listen too well

I just got done reading about the fact that a Stoning sentence for Nigerian mom raises global issues. Here's the issue it raises with me.

While God was telling you that women weren't allowed to have sex out side of marriage, DIDN'T HE BOTHER TO FUCKING TELL YOU THAT IT'S NOT OK TO FUCKING THROW ROCKS AT PEOPLE UNTIL THEY ARE FUCKING DEAD!!!!! I try to be very tolerant of other religions and beliefs, and my own are formed on both a basis of teachings as a child and experience as an adult, but come on. Somewhere somebody's God, in whatever form, has got to be reminding us that we need to stop killing each other just because we can.

I know not many people read this, but I have to say something.

Please. Please. I'm begging you.

Don't do this.

On having something to say

Or,

Who am I?

Well, we did it again. 20X2 ver 3.5 went off great. Big Thanks go out to all who attended and all who helped out, we could never have dome it without you guys, and we love you all. Kevin and I have often said that the event is really about the people who speak, not about us, and we believe it more every time we do it.

Thing is, this time, it was a least a little about me. I was "Speaker number 1!". For posterity, here's a bit of what I had to say.

At City Lights, Monday Morning
a poem by Jeffrey Rider

Who am I?
I ask myself this as I
sit at a window
In what is, to me
A Holy Place.
I can feel tears inside my face.
As I sit at this small black table
Surrounded by books and shelves of books
A man in a blue shirt ascends
He does not disturb my search
My questioning.
A yellow strip of plastic
like police tape, flutters
It cares not who I am.
Now blue shirt crouches
near my thought.
He disturbs my search for self
but only briefly.
He is not offensive, just too close.
He retreats, and I ask again,
Who am I?

Like the Ghosts of the Gods
of this Holy Place,
Fluttering around my ears,
Capering in and out of
Thick yellow unevenly cut pages?
Do I aspire to
their divinity?
That was the goal.
but is it in me?
is it innate?
is it real?
Am I waiting for it to emerge
Or do I seek out who I am
by writing?
At times, I feel I have
given up
sold out
sold myself short.

But as I sit,
writing
warmed by the sun through
the window
of this Holy Place
Where I returned by train
by foot
by memory
by instinct
I read and write and ask
Who am I?

Why is my name Jeffrey,
or Jeff
or Jefe?
Why?

That's why.

On Loss

or

The Man Comes Around.

.......And I heard a voice from amongst the beasts......And I looked and I beheld a pale horse and the man that sat on him was dressed as a Highwayman, though he was from hat to boot tip the whole in Black, and the name that sat on him was Cash, and wisdom followed with him......And he said unto me, unto all, "There's a man comin' round, takin' names. And he knows who to free, and who to blame. Everybody will be treated just the same. There'll be a Golden Ladder, hangin' down, When the Man Comes Around. Fear not the rider or the pale horse when they come for you. Fear not the place whence you will be taken, for there is happiness there, not strife. Know when you get there that the guy you are goin' to see is good, that his bounty overflows all you can imagine. Know that he is accepting of you, despite any acts of yours, save one. Know that he wants us all to get what he's sayin', people, and that he sends lots of people to say it lots of different ways. He sent me to sing my whole life, and I did, until the end. He sent us to create, to share, not to fight amongst ourselves. He cries out to you, Don't Take your Guns to Town. Don't wield them in my name. He says, learn to love in my name, in any form, not because you were told to , but because you feel it, brother. Put away your guns and your swords, respect each others life and each others ways. Gather together and sing songs, read poems, worship that which moves you, accept each other. Know that though I claimed to have shot a man in Reno, I have not fallen into a Ring of Fire. I no longer Hurt. I tried to sing and bring joy, and knowledge of pain and love and lust and things of man that He has given us, and those things will save you." ........And the Pale Horse turned, and the Man in Black rode on, though his words echoed in ears of all who heard his whiskey soaked voice......and he returned to the midst of the Beasts and smote them all with the might of his guitar and of his voice. Just to watch them Die.

On The return of the minstrel show.

Or,

All dressed up in gayface.

I can't understand why more people don't find Queer Eye offensive. I have many gay friends, and so far none of them have openly voiced an opinion of this thing one way or the other. Most of the straight folks I know think the show is a riot. I understand that it may represent a step forward for the community by helping establish gay culture as apart of overall American culture and not a closeted or in some way deviant life style. But frankly, the insinuation that as a straight man I don't know how to dress my self is a little insulting. I look good, most of the time, and I loves me the women. I have known gay men in the past who couldn't dress themselves without their mammas, though I admit most of my gay friends now have a pretty good fashion sense. Except Brad, but he's funny, so he gets off clean. Love Brad to death, but he looks like the gay man's Dave Attell. Also, I get a little miffed by the women I meet who think things like, "Wow that is a great suit you're wearing, Jeff. I bet your boyfriend thinks you look great in it." I don't begrudge anyone their sexual preference as long as what you like to fuck isn't a child or someone that doesn't want to be fucked. Go nuts, all of you, really, I don't mind. But please don't make unreasonable assumptions about me because the five funny guys on TV teach you that only gay men know how to properly iron their own clothes.

So far, the only guy out there that I can find who thinks, like I do, that if the show were called "Black eye for the White guy" that suddenly everyone would get why it's really a bit degrading is openly gay Massachusetts Rep. Barney Frank, who said (quoted from Newsweek), "The notion that gay men have a superior fashion sense is not true, and it's damaging.....It's perfectly possible to enjoy that show and say, 'Look at those clever homosexuals - what they do with hair!' And not support gays at all."

On a brief Respite from my Adventure

Or,

Magnolia Brewery Kolsch kicks ass.

Walked down to Union Square, people watching and city watching. Finally decided to stop walking and took the bus down to Haight Street. I always get off buses too early. Walked right past Janet's old house. Went to a Too Trendy vintage clothing store, then a Too Vinyl used record store (man, do I need a turntable) and finally into one of my favorite brewpubs, Magnolia. Hadn't been there in 4 years,. Last time I was here, I traded one of my Hub City Brewery T-shirts to a guy who I was told was one of their "best" regulars for a beer and a Magnolia brewery T-shirt. I was a little disappointed not to find that guy sitting at the bar when I got there. Wild Bill would have been there, if the brewpubs and the situation were reversed. The bartender chick was cute though, and my dogs were barking, so it was a great place to stop and take a rest.

On a new adventure

Or,

God it's good to be on vacation

I boarded the train for San Francisco with a bit of a hangover. The wedding party for Andrew and my cousin Julia was a wonderful time. I danced with my cousins, tow of them in red, one in white and spectacular on her big day. I drank and made new friends, renewed old ones, again gave my speech to my family about preservation and salvation of our bond. It is now up top me to follow through with this. After, I talked long with Jim about mistakes of the past, and my hope for a new future. Talked with many about quilts.

So, today, I set off on my new vacation adventure. San Francisco awaits, like hipster Mecca. I hope to find cool music shops, vintage clothing stores, cheesy presents to bring back home, good Chinese food. Later I will try to connect with Kevin and Min Jung.

Min Jung, by the way, throws the best Porn and Pizza party that I have ever beento. Since it was the only one have ever been to, this wasn't so hard, but I doubt it could be topped even if I were long experienced. Upon viewing my first gay porn video, which was described to me as only mildly hardcore, I have become very aware of one indisputable fact.

I AM NOT GAY.

Saw Ernie, Saw Tartac, saw people who remembered or knew by reputation 20X2. All in all, I had a great time. Here's hoping my day in the city will be equally great.

On Signs that things are right

Or

A little bird told me

In the Midst of Julia and Andrew's wedding something remarkable happened. During the exchange of vows, taken with hands clasped before family and friends, taken at the foot of a beautiful waterfall, taken under a beautiful blue sky, we all got a bit of a sign.

A bird, bright blue with a steel grey breast, alighted atop the falls. It cried out, neither menacing nor sorrowful, but announcing.

"Here I am! I have arrived!"

It was neither defiant nor jubilant, bet present nonetheless. Important. The bright blue bird was quickly joined by another, also blue but less so, the first one's mate. It seemed as though he had called to her, beckoning her to join him. "Look, my love, here are two others. Joining together, doing as we have done. " Satisfied that things were as they should be, they skittered off up into the rolling stream, away up the hill, flapping and splashing about in the water, picking bits of food, jumping about, almost dancing. They didn't stay to see the end of the ceremony, they didn't see the kiss that we saw. Perhaps they knew their time together is limited, as is all of ours, and wanted to spend all of it that they had together. They flew away, blue specks in a blue sky, confident that the union occurring below them would run its own course, happily up the hill and into the blue sky, happy, at its own pace.