Las Vegas, Baby

I had a great time in Las Vegas.  I had never been there before, and wow...what a place.  The massive casino complexes, all the sights and people...amazing. 

The best part was spending some time with my wonderful mom.  We walked the strip, ate at buffets and did the shows together.  Sometimes we just lay on our beds and watched TV at night.  We stayed at the Paris hotel, which is just beautiful.

Sunday night we went to see Barry Manilow. I have always loved Barry, and we got amazing seats in the third row!  Barry sang every song you'd want or expect, and he was charming, dazzling and warm.  Loved it, it was such a treat.

Also got to see the musical Jersey Boys.  Excellent show, see it if you get a chance.

At the Luxor hotel, I went to see the Titanic exhibition and the Bodies exhibition. Both really fascinating and informative.  Humane and respectful, as well.  Very cool.

Did not do much gambling, somehow I left my gambling mojo at home.  Tried a bit at the Blackjack tables, but...no "winner, winner, chicken dinner".

I would definitely go back to Las Vegas, but bring a lot more money.  Everything is expensive.  Had a great time, though.  Hope you all had an excellent weekend.

Pagliacci & Carmina Burana

I saw the dress rehearsal Wednesday night, and I'm going again tonight for the opening.  I don't think I've ever enjoyed an opera more than this production of Pagliacci.  It's only about 70 minutes long, full of drama and action and a gorgeous score.  I really loved it!  When Canio launches into the Vesti la giubba at the end at the end of Act One, it was a real thrill.


The second half of the evening is Carl Orff's CARMINA BURANA which I had never seen, or even really heard, except for the iconic "O Fortuna" and the gorgeous "In Trutina" - click those links and listen!  The piece is interpreted by Portland modern dance company Bodyvox and is a thrilling companion to Pagliacci.  The idea is that Carmina Burana is what goes through Canio's mind as he stands over the bodies of Nedda and Silvio, whom he has just murdered.  It's all very brilliant.

Have a great weekend!

The End of RUSH = The End of an Era.

PWD, which produces and distributes RUSH poppers...has gone out of business.    Apparently, Joe Miller, who ran the company, committed suicide.  RUSH has been around since the early '70's, and I have been a fan for many (probably around 30) years.  I don't even want to think about how many bottles I have gone through.  If I had all those empty bottles still, they would probably fill up my entire apartment...or more.  Yet I still have a brain cell, or two, left.

A hit of RUSH simply puts my brain into "the sexy place".  I guess I'll have to figure out how to get to that "sexy place" - the place that gets me off - without RUSH from now on!  I don't much care for other brands of poppers.

It's not only RUSH that was produced and distributed by PWD...it's also LOCKER ROOM (very famous name in poppers), QUICKSILVER, HARDWARE and others.  They are all pretty much the same, and they are far superior to any other brand.  The late Mr. Miller considered himself - as do I - a connoisseur of poppers, and always made sure his products were top-notch.  There are LOTS of knock-off bottles of RUSH out there; and in fact, here in Portland only ONE place sells genuine RUSH.  Every other place in town sells fake RUSH.

Oy, the changes I am going through these days!  No more sexy time with my little brown bottles of RUSH? 

I need to look at my astrological chart. 

But change can be very good, too, and I am just trying to remember to go with the flow....paddle in hand, to steer things in the direction that I want to go.

This weekend I will finally vacuum up the remainder of Jesse's fur that is on the carpet.  I have been resisting that chore.  I did go around on my hands on knees and pick up/save a bunch of it.  It still smells like him.  I have it in a plastic blag.

I know...these blog posts need to get more positive.  I'll lose all my many (4) readers!  I do appreciate you guys, and thanks for your comments.

Have a great weekend!

Reunion

This weekend was nice.  Two friends of mine who I haven't seen since the very early 90's both popped up at the same time here in Portland, so we ran around yesterday all day and all night.  Shopping, eating, gabbing, taking pictures, drinking, ogling the strippers at Silverado and singing karaoke.  It was really fun and I definitely needed a good time.

I picked up Jesse's ashes on Friday.  He came back to me in a very nice, sturdy wooden box, with his name on it.  It made me cry some, but, when I think about the whole thing, Jesse had a very good death.  It was not unexpected, it was peaceful, I got to spend plenty of time with him in the week beforehand.  So, I am at peace with the whole thing, and ready to move on.  It was oddly comforting to bring him back home, even though it was just his ashes.  Still miss the little guy greatly, guess I always will.

So now I will begin looking for a new apartment, my current place was really for Jesse, I don't need to live there anymore.  I'm going to look for a more urban place, maybe downtown Portland or very close in to work and theaters and such. I'm really looking forward to a change.

Next month I am taking a little vacation to Las Vegas, a place I have never been to before.  Looking forward to that.  We are gearing up for our production of Pagliacci/ Carmina Burana here at the opera.  Should be an amazing production. 

Other than all of that, life just goes on!  Hope you are well.

Goodbye, My Sweet Boy. Jesse Brown, 1995 - 2010

In September of 1995, I went to the Multnomah County Animal Shelter, and came home with the adorable puppy in the above photo.  He was eight weeks old, and I named him Jesse.

At the time, I was in the midst of a crippling depression, the kind where you just don't get out of bed.  Jesse changed all that.  There would be no more laying around depressed, the little bundle of sweetness and light was in need of training and love.  He was also full of energy, and so I had to rise to up to the challenge.  I had never had a pet of my own (though there were other wonderful dogs in my family growing up), and Jesse and I learned together as we started our 15 year relationship.

And what a relationship.  Unlike any other I've ever had.  We went everywhere together, and I always looked forward to coming home to him.  Such a sweet little guy.  All that love.

About a year ago, I noticed a lump on his belly. The vet said it was a "fatty deposit", something that wasn't really going to harm him or anything.  He'd never had any real health problems before.  Over the last year, the lump got bigger and bigger, until it was bigger than his head.  Two weeks ago I noticed that it was starting to weep fluid.  I took him to the vet, and it was decided that he needed to have the thing removed.  He had blood work done to make sure that he could safely undergo the removal surgery.

The blood work revealed that Jesse also had a progressive kidney disease.  His vet said that, while he could go ahead and have the growth removed, the kidney problem was only going to get worse and he would probably only live another six months or so, and that those would probably be a rough six months for Jesse. 

Last night, my sweet boy, my companion and love for the last fifteen years was put to sleep.  I had a week to say goodbye.  I cooked him hamburgers and fed him each piece.  I lay by his side and sang to him, petted him, reminisced and told him how much I loved him.  My friend Caleb took us to the vet, and I held him on my lap on the way there, and he kissed me.

The vet administered a sedative, and then a lethal dose of anesthesia.  Jesse died while I held him in my arms. 

Lying on the soft white dog's bed where Jesse passed away, he looked like he was asleep.  His eyes were closed, he did not void his bowels or bladder upon death.  It was incredibly hard to walk out of that room and away from that sweet, furry, still form that I have love for nearly a third of my life.

I walked out of the door, and felt a weird sense of...relief.  Relief that the process was complete.  And feeling relief caused me to also feel a lot of guilt...it just didn't seem like the right feeling.  I expected to be a sobbing mess.

This morning, the grief has really kicked in, in very intense waves.  It's something I haven't experienced before.  It comes unbidden and sudden.  Knowing that I did the right and humane thing for my sweet little guy doesn't really make it much better.

 I miss him so much already.  I'm alone in an empty apartment.  There is soft, black fur still on the carpet.  I am hesitant to vacuum it up.  His blue collar hangs on a doorknob.

I am trying to resist being maudlin, but that is how I feel.  Empty and lonely.  I know it's all normal and natural, and the knowing really doesn't help.

What has helped is all the amazing support and kindness of my friends, so much compassion has come my way over the last several days. This is the last photo I took of Jesse. 

I love you, Jesse.  I always will.  I miss you, Bubba Dog.  Thank you for sharing your short, beautiful life and all your love with me. I won't ever forget you. Goodbye, my sweet, sweet boy.

Life Is A Series of Hellos and Goodbyes

My blog buddy Urspo did a post on friendship the other day, which inspired me to do one myself.

I am in a very odd place with friendships these days.  A person with whom I have had a relationship since I was 14 years old, and considered a "best friend" had a big fight last Labor Day - he was very abusive to my 15 year old dog -  and we have not spoken in almost a year.  And the truth is, I really think that friendship is over. If you had told me the day before last Labor Day that my friendship with Kelly would end the next day, I wouldn't have believed it possible.  But it did, and it has remained over with, and, honestly, I think it's for the best.  I would accept an apology from him, but I would not start our friendship back up, because I have come to realize that the relationship was very co-dependent.  I don't miss him at all, and that is a weird feeling.

Other friendships have passed away, too. People have moved far away, and those relationships can only be continue if both parties are determined to maintain them.  Steven and I are doing this, we talk on the phone and catch up.  I hope that our friendship will always continue.  With others, the calls and promises to come visit have slowly become less frequent.

Being a person with AIDS and on disability makes friendships harder, too.  I don't have the kind of income that many of my contemporaries have - and I no longer have a car - so, I don't go out much anymore. I don't get invited to parties or gatherings, and I don't throw them myself.  Being out in a gay bar is very lonely experience.  It's not that people don't like me - I am well-known, and fairly well-thought-of around town in different circles - I think it's a class thing.  People prefer friends of their own socio-economic status, I think, which - while understandable - is something that makes me sad.

I have made some new friends, though, in recent times.  I have a couple of buddies to go to movies with on the weekends.  And a lovely new friend with a common interest in playwriting.  And of course, there is my dog.

Sometimes I think that maybe I'm just being whiny. Other times, I think that I am just heinous, and nobody should ever talk to me.

Facebook friends are a whole other phenonema.  That subject requires its own post.

When I think about friendships, I always flash on Billy Joel's song "Say Goodbye to Hollywood", and lyrics he wrote:

 Movin' on is a chance you take
Any time you try to stay - together
Say a word out of line
And you find that the friends you had
Are gone forever
Forever

So many faces in and out of my life
Some will last
Some will just be now and then
Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes
I'm afraid it's time for goodbye again
Say goodbye to Hollywood
Say goodbye, my baby
Say goodbye to Hollywood
Say goodbye, my baby 

A Gentleman Caller

Had a nice weekend.  My fuckbuddy friend from Seattle came down to visit, and we partied and played Friday night, and then slept in on Saturday before getting up (after another bout) and hitting breakfast and then yard sales.  It was most pleasant to sleep with someone in my bed, it had been awhile.

Sunday was mostly just relaxing with books and dvds and my dog. I had to douse him with Advantage, so now he feels better.  Damn fleas.

I'm reading a collection of essays by Tennessee Williams.  He's not only a great playwright, but a terrific essayist.  He might be my favorite playwright, someone I'd love to emulate.

The new Broadway revival of South Pathetic Pacific opens tomorrow night.  I was in a production of that show long ago...6 shows a week for 10 weeks.  Yet I am looking forward to seeing this Lincoln Center touring production.

Hope you had a good weekend too, and continue to have a wonderful week!

Thus endeth the scintillating blog post.