Fool's Gold Coast

Lane Change

I had a funny idea for an entry, but it didn't come off properly so I have had to abandon it. Please accept instead this list of alleged comedians who haven't told any actual jokes in several years (which is something different than simply being unfunny, which any old comic can do; it takes a special gift, though, to retain the job title of comedian even after you've obviously lost all interest in comedy). I figure the list is relevant today, seeing as how Al Franken--the king of comedians indifferent to comedy--finally won the November Minnesota senate race this afternoon.

Rosie O'Donnell
Howie Mandel
Bill Cosby
Dennis Miller
Janeane Garofalo
and, of course, Al Franken

Thank-you.


ELSEWHERE:
My review of The Resonants' The Tragedy of Doctor Faustus is in this week's Time Out Chicago.

In Good Condition

I am happy to report that the air in my apartment is once again conditioned. The landlord came by on Friday and fixed whatever needed fixing. Hallelujah.

Now that things have cooled off a bit, I was able to look up that passage from Philip Roth's "Goodbye, Columbus" that I mentioned last time (when I said I was too hot to do anything but complain). Here 'tis:

. . . It was, in fact, as though the hundred and eighty feet that the suburbs rose in altitude above Newark brought one closer to heaven, for the sun itself became bigger, lower, and rounder, and soon I was driving past long lawns which seemed to be twirling water on themselves, past houses where no one sat on stoops, where lights were on but no windows open, for those inside, refusing to share the very texture of life with those of us outside, regulated with a dial the amounts of moisture that were allowed access to their skin. . . . I thought of Aunt Gladys and Uncle Max sharing a Mounds bar in the cindery darkness of their alley, on beach chairs, each cool breeze sweet to them as the promise of afterlife, and after a while I rolled onto the gravel roads of the small park where Brenda was playing tennis.

Too Darn Hot

It's been hotter than blue blazes in my apartment the last few days--or, as my father would say, "hot enough to boil an owl." Why does he say this? you ask. Excellent question, I answer.

The point is, it's hot. The air conditioning system has gone on the fritz, you see, and with temperatures here in Chicago hovering around 90, all I want to do when I'm home is dim the lights, take off all my clothes, open every window, and wait for a cool breeze to pass through like absolution.

This reminds me of a quote from Philip Roth's "Goodbye, Columbus," but I'm not going to look it up for you because it's way too hot to go looking stuff up. I don't even want to have sex, you guys. Cheyenne Jackson himself could saunter into my apartment right now and be like, "I would like to have sex with you"--and, yes, I would go through with it, but only to avoid hurting his feelings (I see no need to abandon manners, heat stroke or no).

I keep thinking, what did they do in the olden days, before air conditioners were invented? I mean, no wonder they never smiled in photographs and were racist. They were cranky from the heat! If someone took a photograph of me right now, I wouldn't be smiling either. And you know what else? A little piece of me is starting to dislike the Dutch.

Do you see what a lack of conditioned air is doing to me? I can't live like this!


ELSEWHERE:
My short review of Annoyance Productions' Sodomites!! A Musical of Biblical Proportions is in this week's Chicago Reader.

One Thing after Another 13: Reporting

PREVIOUSLY:
1. "But what if I had reason to suspect[," says Olive, "]that I had been sent, through the ordinary postal system but with no postmark and no return address, Andrew's suicide letter, the latest in a string of strangers' suicide letters that I had received over the course of several weeks for reasons unknown and that I had begun to suspect, further, that my mailbox has become some kind of supernatural repository for the final thoughts of depressives about to off themselves[?]"
2. "Tell me what's wrong," says Hedy Weiss, "or I'll have my husband, Chicago Tribune theater critic Chris Jones, perform his one-man show, 'Jonesin': Music and Laughter from across the Pond.'"
"All right, all right!" says Olive. "I'll talk."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hello," says Olive, upon picking up the phone.
"Olive, hello. It's Chicago Sun-Times theater critic Hedy Weiss."
"Oh, hi, Aunt Hedy," says Olive. "What's up?"
"I wanted to let you know that I checked on the names you gave me," says Hedy Weiss. "The ones from the suicide letters you've been receiving through the mail."
"Hold on," says Olive. "I am getting a text."
She balances her office phone between her ear and shoulder and reaches for her cell phone, where she sees this message:

ttyl, crool world!
katie m, 1991-now

Great, thinks Olive. Now I am receiving suicide texts.
"Anyway," continues Hedy Weiss, "I checked our archives, and obituaries for each of the names you gave me did indeed appear in the paper."
"So they really are dead?" says Olive.
"Yes," says Hedy Weiss. "Which seals it: you're getting letters from dead people."
"Couldn't somebody just be playing a cruel trick on me?" says Olive.
"That is what I suspected at first," says Hedy Weiss, "but then I was able to verify in some way that this was not the case."
She then explains how she was able to do this.
"Well," says Olive, "I guess that settles that. But what do I do now?"
"You said that the only letter-writer you personally knew was this Andrew person, correct?" says Hedy Weiss.
"Yes, I knew him," says Olive, "but only barely. We shared an office for one day."
"Well, it seems to me your best bet is to find out as much about Andrew as you can," says Hedy Weiss, "and hope that the rest falls into place. Let me know if you need my help. I like this lady-investigative-reporter stuff. It makes me feel like Brenda Starr."
"I do not know who that is," says Olive.

The Gold Mine 93: June 22, 1993

Stuff I've dug up.

Here's an excerpt from a diary entry I wrote on today's date sixteen years ago. I was 13.

June 22, 1993
Day 5 [of family vacation in Florida]
Today it rained. I was forced to go shopping because of this unpleasant outburst of precipitation. We ate at The Back Porch. The End.
Rainy Day Reactions
Question - How do you feel about not being able to go to the beach today because of the rain?
Dad - Bummer.
Eric - Sad.
Mom - Oh, what a loss, what a loss.
Kelsey - Well, I wanted to go down to the beach, but I had fun today anyway.
Nicole - I feel you're really getting on my nerves.
Eden - I feel really sad.

I Got a Million of 'Em

"Sometimes, having a conversation with you is like talking to a dick." --Kito, to me, during an argument

Talking to a dick? That sucks!

No, wait. I can do better.

Talking to a dick? Don't make me gag!

Still no good? How about this:

The trouble with talking to dicks is that they're always shooting off at the mouth.

Yeah, that's the one. Tip your waitresses and so forth!

Hair Cuts

I have begun to grow my hair out again, so naturally the unsolicited, not terribly polite comments from not terribly close acquaintances have begun to trickle in. Someone has already pointed out that I resemble Shaggy from Scooby Doo, somebody else asked if I am trying to look like a Jonas Brother, and several people have told me to get a haircut. My favorite comment so far came from a co-worker who said it was okay with her if I grew my hair out (I did not ask for permission), but next time I shouldn't use so much product. As there was very little product in my hair at the time, I took this as an indication that I probably shouldn't have foregone washing my hair that morning.


ELSEWHERE:
My short reviews of Halcyon Theatre's Bounty of Lace and Fucking Parasites (both part of the Alcyone Festival) are in this week's Chicago Reader.

Plugged

A longtime Fool's Gold Coast reader wants me to plug the upcoming annual gala of The Trevor Project--a worthy organization dedicated to suicide prevention and other programs for LGBTQ young people--in New York on June 29. I had drafted an adorable little post about how asking me to plug anything is hilarious seeing as how the only people who happen upon this blog are Australians looking for glory holes and disgruntled actors hate-googling my name, when Kito told me that one of the honorees at this year's event, Oscar-winning Milk-screenwriter (and dreamboat) Dustin Lance Black, has just recently found himself embroiled in a sexy photos scandal. It seems some three-year-old pictures have surfaced on the Internet that depict Black engaged in unprotected sex.

So someone who has barebacked at least once in his life will receive an award for being "an inspiration to LGBTQ youth." Perhaps this outrages you; perhaps, like me, you think maybe one series of photos shouldn't cancel out everything else a person has done (for the record, Black says he and the other fellow in the photos were dating at the time).

What truly shocks me about the whole thing, though, is that the other "inspiration to LGBTQ youth" to be honored that night is CNN. Who knew Larry King and Lou Dobbs were so big with the queer kids nowadays?

Anyway. For more information about the event or to purchase tickets, visit TheTrevorProject.org.

And here's the press release:


THE TREVOR PROJECT TO HONOR DUSTIN LANCE BLACK AND CNN
Honorees to be presented with awards at annual Trevor New York fundraising gala

NEW YORK (June 9, 2009) – Academy Award®-winning screenwriter Dustin Lance Black and leading news network CNN are set to be honored at the ninth annual Trevor New York gala on June 29 at Capitale in New York City. Event proceeds benefit The Trevor Project, the leading national organization focused on crisis and suicide prevention efforts among lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) youth.

Black, screenwriter of the two-time Academy Award-winning biopic “Milk,” is being honored with The Trevor Hero Award. This award annually honors an individual who, through his or her example, support, volunteerism and/or occupation, is an inspiration to LGBTQ youth. In addition to his groundbreaking work on the “Milk” screenplay, Black has become an influential and articulate supporter of LGBTQ youth, even vocalizing his support for the next generation in his Oscar® acceptance speech.

“It's a privilege to be honored by The Trevor Project because its priorities are my own. Its tireless efforts to create and maintain life lines for at risk youth, and its commitment to ensuring all young people are valued, regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity are literally lifesaving,” said Black. “It is so important that this country's youth know that a brighter future filled with equal rights, equal-opportunity, and full acceptance lie ahead. As Harvey Milk so often said, 'We gotta give 'em hope,' and The Trevor Project is filling that need."

CNN, a news network that has paved the way for comprehensive, accurate and timely coverage of news events, is being honored with The Trevor Commitment Award. This award annually recognizes a company or organization that, through its policies, initiatives and other efforts, demonstrates a commitment to LGBTQ causes and is a prominent, public example of corporate acceptance of individuals regardless of sexual orientation. CNN has been at the forefront of covering issues affecting the LGBTQ community, consistently doing so both fairly and factually. Soledad O’Brien, CNN anchor and special correspondent, will accept the award on the network’s behalf. “I am honored to accept this award. CNN remains committed to covering stories that are relevant to diverse audiences and we applaud The Trevor Project for raising awareness about these important issues and the harmful consequences of discrimination,” said O'Brien, CNN.

“Dustin Lance Black and CNN serve as inspirations to LGBTQ youth, and have set important precedents for their colleagues by showcasing diversity and promoting inclusivity,” said Charles Robbins, executive director and CEO, The Trevor Project. “Both recipients are more than deserving of these distinctions and we couldn’t be happier to present them with these honors.”

Trevor New York annually brings together top entertainers and supporters of The Trevor Project for an evening of comedy, musical performances and special honorees. The event helps raise the financial resources necessary to fund The Trevor Project’s programs including its free and confidential helpline, in-school workshops, community outreach and educational resources.

About The Trevor Project

The Trevor Project is the leading national organization focused on crisis and suicide prevention efforts among lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning youth. Every day, The Trevor Project saves young lives through its free and confidential helpline, in-school workshops, educational materials, online resources and advocacy. The organization was founded in 1998 by three filmmakers whose film, “Trevor,” a comedy/drama about a gay teenager who attempts suicide, received the 1994 Academy Award® for Best Short Film (Live Action). For more information, visit TheTrevorProject.org.

One Thing after Another 12: The Gospel According to Eli

PREVIOUSLY:
1. Andrew Malchance had assumed that killing himself would be the end of it. Waking up the next morning, then, came as something of an unpleasant surprise.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"May I tell you about Jesus?" says the man sitting next to Andrew on the plane.
"Must you?" says Andrew.
"It goes like this:" says the man, whose name, by the way, is Eli, "you and I are terrible sinners because at the dawn of time two people, whom we did not know, ate an apple. This made God kill His son, but it's okay because God is His son (He is also a ghost). The son, Jesus, died on a Friday and came back to life on Sunday two days later--but because Jesus is magic, the two days felt like three. Also: the fact that He came back to life means that you do not have to suffer punishment for being a terrible sinner, provided you accept Jesus as your personal lord and savior, which means you can never have an abortion or get gay-married. These are the fundamental tenets of our faith."
"What happens if I do not accept Jesus as my personal lord and savior?" says Andrew.
"When you die," says Eli, "you will go to hell."
"I am not so sure of that," says Andrew, with a knowing smile. "I am not so sure of that at all."
"Yeah, it is pretty far-fetched," says Eli, "but God figured that if He made the religion believable it would attract too many people and heaven would become overcrowded. Shall we pray?"

ELSEWHERE:
My review of Redtwist Theatre's The Ride Down Mt. Morgan is in this week's Time Out Chicago.

The Gold Mine 92: June 15, 2000

Stuff I've dug up.

Here's an excerpt from a diary entry I wrote on today's date nine years ago. I was 20.

6-15-00
In a plane, on the way back to Arkansas after a quick trip to New York.
Kelsey and I spent yesterday afternoon shopping. She got checked out by the entire city. It convinced me that there are such things as straight men, after all. When someone finally glanced at me, I knew we had to be near the gay part of town. She's handy that way.