this is fyf

Grace Jones performed at the Queen's Diamond Jubilee today.

And what did you do today?

Well, it was going to take something major major to get us posting again.  Maybe this is it?

Confessions of a middle-aged gay guy - "Hey Daddy"

My first boyfriend, two decades ago, was a very charming Cuban named Juan.  Although he was a bit older than me, he always called me "papi", which I thought was "puppy" because, well, why would anyone call me "daddy"?  As a "new gay" back then, it was confusing to me why the term would be used and brought to mind fears that Juan was a victim of incest and might have issues.  Once numerous gay bars and nights like "Cafe Con Leche" were frequented, there was an acceptance that this was just a turn of phrase.

Fast forward twenty years and a message comes through on Grindr.  (Note to self, turn off "push notifications".)  "Hi Daddy!"  Now, I look my age.  In fact, I look older than my age.  My people just tend to do that, especially when they have years of sun damage.  The ginger and salt beard and hairline also give the appearance of a "man", and there is no surgery or chemical peel required as I'm sort of cool with it.  But still, "Hi Daddy!"

It's not the first time it's been heard.  In fact it's been a greeting from strangers for all my gay years.  The problem is this:  What is the proper response?  I just can't bring myself to say "Hey boy" or anything similar as it just sounds ridiculous to me.  I'm not into the "daddy/son" dynamic and in fact have no understanding of it.  But sometimes the person saying it is attractive and yes, sex could be had with them, so maybe something more sexualized than "hello" should be applied, but what?

Now, yes, this is the confession of not just a middle-aged guy, but that of a slightly neurotic middle-aged guy.  It's not a bad trait really and certainly it's better to overthink than to underthink.  Still, all this thinking is getting me nowhere and certainly not in the sack with the Grindr person (who was hot despite the poorly placed tattoo) who apparently wanted more than "good evening".

After all this time, I need to know.  What is the proper response to "Hey Daddy"?

Does the tablecloth always match the drapes in the Griffin kitchen on Family Guy?  It's really bothering me right now.

Confession?  I'm a fan of Gwyneth Paltrow.  I think we'd enjoy hanging out.  Glee, however, I'm not a fan of.  But I'll watch tonight, like you.  But unlike you?  It's just for the Gwynnie.  (If you're home now, it's, like, on right now.  I found it during a TBS Family Guy marathon commercial break while paying bills and eating some yummy halal Chinese.)

Provincetown Notebook, July 2010, part three - Tabitha Coffey is on the jetty, and suddenly I get why Andy Cohen and Bravo are successful.

Walking the length of the jetty is strenuous.  It's not an excessively long walk, but the concentration required to step on the right boulder in the right way without fail can wear one down a little.  

EMT's are on the scene when we arrive.  We watch them head out with a stretcher as we enjoy our sandwiches from Relish - mine is the peanut tofu wrap.  When we pass them about one-third of the way out, we see a teen male with a fracture or a sprain or a something-not-horribly-bloody, but-ultimately-terrifying-so-far-out.    We don't stick around as there are enough gawkers already, and we really want to walk all the way to Long Point. 

Although we walk the full length, we don't make it all the way to the lighthouse.  We turn back.  The tide is rising; our landscape of mussel shells now underwater.  We discuss the reason and the purpose and the how and the why of the jetty and arrive at the conclusion of erosion prevention.  (Maybe we're right?)  We reach the end, and suddenly we're being filmed and signing releases and watching Tabatha Coffey interview someone (who turns out to be the owner of the West End Salon) and BOOM, epiphany.

Bravo doesn't have genius programming.  Its shows are gay friendly, have their tongue firmly planted in cheek, and its regulars (like Coffey) seem to be a fun bunch.  It seems, from casual observation, that the reason behind this is Andy Cohen.  Sure, he can be a bit of an ass in his interview bits, but then consider this:

You've sent one of your lesbian stars to do a salon makeover in Provincetown during Girl Splash?  How awesome of a boss are you? 

While I've met him casually (in Provincetown last year actually and seriously, it was a handshake and maybe twenty words) I've never before had an epiphany about the guy.  But the epiphany is this;  Andy Cohen is pretty fucking cool.

Provincetown Notebook, July 2010, part two - A note to a certain bartender

Look, friend.  Of course I noticed you at your place of work.  Despite the great view, and the great drinks you were serving up, how couldn't a guy notice your rugged good looks and your playful twinkling eyes.  But you were talking mostly to my friend (and who wouldn't, he's awesome), so my concentration was on the rest in our group.  So I couldn't not be caught by surprise when we were suddenly making out in front of Blonde's while my friends were ordering fried mac-n-cheese balls.  Sure, I left for that late night naked pool party with you, but on the way there you started talking about how hot my friend is (and who wouldn't, he's awesome), but honestly, all I really needed was a blow job, and that requires focus, so I sort of bailed at the party.  Maybe when you come back to Manhattan we'll kick it.