Albert and I just returned from a road trip up north to visit family. We went fishing in Medford, where I reeled in a 20-pound salmon on the Rogue River. Albert’s dad, Bob, gutted the giant fish on the riverbank and began by tossing the beating heart on a nearby rock. He expertly butchered the rest of the water-beast and the heart continued to beat during the entire process, like a horror movie. Oregon is beautiful land, and you can see animals everywhere. From Bob’s porch we could see cows, llamas, and almost a dozen wild turkeys. My first thought is “beautiful.” In Oregon, people’s first thought is, “I want to kill and eat all of that.”
We also went to visit Albert’s aunt and uncle near Sacramento. The day before I arrived, they had rescued a kitten and an adult cat, so here I got to pet the animals as opposed to hunting them. There is nothing more fun than playing with a couple of very happy cats that know they just got a new lease on one of their nine lives. We also visited friends in San Francisco for the weekend. I love that beautiful city and it still feels like home in many ways, BUT (and there is always a but) it is filthy. The first thing I saw as we parked our car in the Castro in the light of day was a man pooping on the sidewalk. Welcome home!
Speaking of sidewalks, let me just add, that throwing stuff on the sidewalk or in the gutter is gross. People in my neighborhood clean out their cars by dumping their trash onto the streets, like it’s supposed to magically disappear. Beer bottles and Slurpee cups dot not disintegrate like fall leaves, and I believe that you are whatever you leave behind. For example, if you leave your trash on the ground, you are trash. If you leave your dog’s crap on the ground, then you are shit. It’s very simple.
Sometimes the garbage just doesn’t make sense, however. I was picking up detritus by my front sidewalk the other day and came across a coupling I just couldn’t figure out. There in my grass was one used condom and a cherry tomato. I could see either of these item alone, but together it’s just the worst salad ever. Did someone almost finish their light lunch before having sex in the gutter. I am actually happy that somebody is having safe sex in front of my home and eating healthy in the street. Good for you, you dirty prophylactic.
Before I sign off, I have a few recommendations for you. Albert and I went to see Edward Albee’s “The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?” playing at the LGBT Center, and it’s fantastic. The show has witty, smart dialogue similar to his classic “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” but with the addition of bestiality. It is shocking and hysterical and has some of the best performances I’ve seen in town.
We’ve also gone to a couple movies that are not to be missed. Gone Girl is a great adaptation of Gillian Flynn’s novel starring Ben Affleck and his penis. I loved the book and thought David Fincher’s direction of the film was perfect. We also saw the movie Pride, based on the true story of how a London-based gay and lesbian activist group supported a group of National Mine Workers in 1984. It is a very funny and inspiring movie about tolerance and friendship. Gays, lesbians, and miners should see it to learn some of their history, and know the hard work and battles our fairy godmothers and godfathers had to fight. Everybody else should see it because it shows the power of the human spirit, and it will make you laugh and cry.
Finally, my new book Bring a Bag of Ice is available digitally for your Kindle, tablet, or smartphone. Download your copy from Amazon today: