Cowboys Are My Weakness

By LARRY DAVID

SOMEBODY had to write this, and it might as well be me. I haven't seen "Brokeback Mountain," nor do I have any intention of seeing it. In fact, cowboys would have to lasso me, drag me into the theater and tie me to the seat, and even then I would make every effort to close my eyes and cover my ears.

And I love gay people. Hey, I've got gay acquaintances. Good acquaintances, who know they can call me anytime if they had my phone number. I'm for gay marriage, gay divorce, gay this and gay that. I just don't want to watch two straight men, alone on the prairie, fall in love and kiss and hug and hold hands and whatnot. That's all.

Is that so terrible? Does that mean I'm homophobic? And if I am, well, then that's too bad. Because you can call me any name you want, but I'm still not going to that movie.

To my surprise, I have some straight friends who've not only seen the movie but liked it. "One of the best love stories ever," one gushed. Another went on, "Oh, my God, you completely forget that it's two men. You in particular will love it."

"Why me?"

"You just will, trust me."

But I don't trust him. If two cowboys, male icons who are 100 percent all-man, can succumb, what chance to do I have, half- to a quarter of a man, depending on whom I'm with at the time? I'm a very susceptible person, easily influenced, a natural-born follower with no sales-resistance. When I walk into a store, clerks wrestle one another trying to get to me first. My wife won't let me watch infomercials because of all the junk I've ordered that's now piled up in the garage. My medicine cabinet is filled with vitamins and bald cures.

So who's to say I won't become enamored with the whole gay business? Let's face it, there is some appeal there. I know I've always gotten along great with men. I never once paced in my room rehearsing what to say before asking a guy if he wanted to go to the movies. And I generally don't pay for men, which of course is their most appealing attribute.

And gay guys always seem like they're having a great time. At the Christmas party I went to, they were the only ones who sang. Boy that looked like fun. I would love to sing, but this weighty, self-conscious heterosexuality I'm saddled with won't permit it.

I just know if I saw that movie, the voice inside my head that delights in torturing me would have a field day. "You like those cowboys, don't you? They're kind of cute. Go ahead, admit it, they're cute. You can't fool me, gay man. Go ahead, stop fighting it. You're gay! You're gay!"

Not that there's anything wrong with it.

Larry David appears in the HBO series "Curb Your Enthusiasm."

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... My honey has left once again for 6 weeks, and because of my crazy schedule, I am unable to go to visit him during his next two contracts.  We did have a fun, but way too short weekend.

He arrived home on Friday.  The Luggage Minions at Charles de Gaulle Airport sent one of his bags on the wrong flight.  So when he got home for a grand total 52 hours, we had to deal with attempting to harass the Air Canada people for information about when we could go and pick up the suitcase.  The problem with this scenario is that the people you are speaking with on the phone are not here in Toronto, or in Canada... No, these helpful baggage finders are on a different continent.  Yes my friends, the Air Canada service call centre is in INDIA!!!!  Let me just say that they aren't always free to just run down into the terminal to see if your bag has arrived yet.  After many annoying phone calls and threats of never flying Air Canada again, we picked up the bag 24 hours after he had arrived home.

Friday night way spent at a birthday party for a friend who lives next door to us.  Just hanging out and having snack and cake.  Pretty low key and fun.  Saturday I had my haircut and we spent the evening at home with friends watching Prime Suspect 2.  Just as amazing as the first instalment.  We watched the whole series in one sitting this time.

Sunday I sang at church, went for brunch and had a long rehearsal at my house for a concert I am performing next Saturday.

 

Once again I am beginning a week where I have a commitment every evening.  When am I going to learn all of the music I have to perform over the next three months? ARRRGG!

I love Thomas Hardy, and I think this might be my favourite of his poems

Transformations 

Portion of this yew
Is a man my grandsire knew,
Bosomed her at its foot:
This branch may be his wife
A ruddy human life
Now turned to a green shoot

These grasses must be made
Of her who often prayed
Last century, for repose;
And the fair girl long ago
Whom I often tried to know
May be entering this rose.

So, they are not underground,
But as nerves and veins abound
In the growths of upper air,
And they feel the sun and rain,
And the energy again
That made them what they were.

My sweetie is returning from France this afternoon.  I am really looking forward to seeing him!  It has been almost 6 weeks.  So I got up early this morning and tidied a bit.  I am going to go home at lunch as well to vacuum and dust.

Church rehearsal was as uneventful as ever.  I have one beef though.  At my church we have a music director and an organist, so the organist plays the rehearsal and the music director conducts.  Here is what really gets on my nerves.  Quite often when we are reading through a piece for the first time the organist does not play along with us.  I know what you're all thinking "it is called sight reading".  Which I totally understand.  But, first time through, give us a break and play along so we get the idea of the piece and the harmony.  It probably wouldn't be such a big deal if we were all there, but this is usually at the end of the rehearsal when the Treble section has already left for the evening and we are left trying to sight read with some of the parts missing.  OK... I should be a better sight reader, but give us a break the first time through.  He is sitting the at the keyboard, play some notes!

Finished watching Prime Suspect 1 last night.  I love this series!  The acting is AMAZING!  The characters are all real and fully developed.  This is a perfect example of why British television and film is so well done.  No one is a cover model, they are all interesting people with huge flaws.  You feel like you can relate to the characters on a personal level.  Also, the actors seem to care more about creating three dimensional characters and less about how they look or how they are perceived in pop culture.

I have been the migraine king for the last month.  I have had migraines waking up in the morning, on the weekends, before going to bed... Not every day but a lot more than usual.  So yesterday I decided that enough is enough.  I made an appointment to see my doctor, but couldn't get in to see him for a couple of weeks, and I made an appointment to get my eyes checked.  I went to the eye doctor yesterday afternoon.  It has been about 16 years since I have had my eyes checked.  It seemed like I was due for an eye exam.  I would seem that little old me is in need of some spectacles.  So I am crossing my fingers that they will help alleviate the migraine frequency.  Apparently I have one eye stronger than the other, which means that my left eye works overtime to help the lazy right eye.  Anyway, the glasses should help with the eye strain, which should in turn cut down on the number of migraines I get.  I am crossing my fingers.

Ok... a friend from work has introduced me to the Live Journal world. I hope to be able to be a faithful journal writer... I know I am good at the live part, but the "journalling" could be my downfall. It is difficult to say at this juncture, but I will attempt an on-line journal.