Yes, I’ve been busy.

Two shows up and running. A stack of grant apps signed, sealed, and delivered. A little more work on the house. A never-ending to-do list of bills, taxes, chores, and errands. As Fred Schneider once said, the party goes on forever…

In fact, things got so delightfully overwhelming that day before yesterday, my body shut down. It does that every so often–usually right after I’ve finished a major project. This time, the meltdown followed the opening weekend of Bluebeard: I was out walking the hounds, and I felt a stabbing pain in my stomach. By the time I got back to the house, I was having chills. I stayed home from work, wrapped under covers on the living room sofa, trying to find positions that wouldn’t make me nauseous.

Less than 24 hours and two bowls of the bf‘s chicken soup later, it was over, and I felt stupid. Thanks to my innately high stress-level, I’ve been through this a zillion times since 4th grade. You’d think that by now I’d be able to see trouble brewing on the horizon and chill out, but apparently I’m not that clever–which makes me a little concerned about the future. At this rate, by the time I hit retirement I’ll be a shriveled knot of ulcers and boils: the sort of person fit only to write romance novels or perform character roles in summer-stock productions of The Tempest. Ugh. How ever will I find the courage to face the throngs of aging, addled circuit fags lounging by the pool of our retirement villa in Fort Lauderdale?

Still, other than those two issues (my ill-balanced humours and a fear I’ll succumb to the “gay retirement lifestyle”), I’m not really the sort of guy who’s concerned about getting older. Frankly, older is where it’s at (as the non-old ones say these days). Our elders get yes-sirred and no-m’amed, and they get good seats on the bus. And in my book, older men are about 50 times sexier than their juniors. What’s not to look forward to?

In all honesty, the one thing that truly concerns me about getting older is my lack of energy. Well, not energy, per se, but, like, creative energy. I mean, I don’t write nearly as much as I used to. I don’t read as much, either. I feel like I’m losing language skills left and right. I feel like I’ve got a couple of books in me, somewhere–though I guess it’s possible that they’ve already come out as blog entries or plays. And then again, if the writing urge isn’t so strong in me right now, maybe I shouldn’t push it. I mean, who wants to read stuff written by someone who’s not really compelled to write?

Kinda like this crap.

As experience has shown, the absence of sexual complementarity in [homosexual] unions creates obstacles in the normal development of children who would be placed in the care of such persons. They would be deprived of the experience of either fatherhood or motherhood. Allowing children to be adopted by persons living in such unions would actually mean doing violence to these children, in the sense that their condition of dependency would be used to place them in an environment that is not conducive to their full human development.

— papal bull (I use the term loosely) from the New York Times

So, leaving children in the care of two loving, caring, homosexuals is worse than leaving them in the care of one unsupervised, lecherous, homosexual priest?

And what “experience” has shown him this? Does anyone know of a study that proves his wacko conclusions? Frankly, I was under the impression that just the opposite was true…

Today, the New York Times published a complete transcript of W’s Rose Garden press conference. Out of 11 webpages of text, three tiny paragraphs in the middle of page 5 somehow drew top headlines on both the Times’ website and CNN. Why? Because in those 137 words, the Collander in Chief finally made a statement on gay marriage. Surprise, surprise: he’s not in favor of it.

And yet, it’s not as simple as that. W may be an idiot, but he’s a crafty idiot. He’s kept quiet on the issue of queer marriage for as long as he has because he wants to look compassionate and not alienate the soccer moms who got him (s)elected. Now, however, the polls show a fairly strong backlash against homos since the Supreme Court effectively legalized sodomy earlier this summer: not to bum y’all out or anything, but according to CNN

The number of people who have endorsed the idea that homosexual relations should be legal has dropped from 60 percent to 48 percent since the ruling, and only 40 percent of Americans say they now would support civil unions for homosexuals.

Ergo, W thinks its safe to swim in the waters of social conservatism again. (Or maybe he’s just striking back at liberals after his lukewarm reception from the Urban League yesterday. Sour grapes.)

Still, all isn’t lost. Like I said, that’s one crafty dumbass we’ve got in that big ol’ white house: by arguing against a Constitutional Amendment to ban gay marriages and suggesting that there are other legal solutions to the “problem,” W is essentially leaving open the door for a constitutional challenge to any law that he might propose. That’s not so bad in my book. I mean, if you were a homo lawyer fighting for queer marriage–and who’s to say you aren’t?–wouldn’t you rather argue against a measly law than a piece of the Constitution?

Personally, I don’t have a problem with the Pentagon’s weird-ass plan to set up a worldwide betting parlor for freaks who like to wager on terrorist acts. As long as they include a special section for some of us to lay down our ducats estimating how many times W will say “newkewlur” or “‘merkins” in his next speech (e.g. “My fellow merkins, we ain’t found ’em yet, but I know that ol’ Saddam had some newkewlur weapons in his toolshed.”) or guessing which Republican senator will be the next to accuse a Democratic senator of infidelity or homosexuality or “rewriting history,” I’m cool.

N.Y. to Open 1st Public Gay High School

Hmmm. I’m not quite sure how I feel about this one. I mean, I’m uncomfortable with the whole “gay ghetto” thing in the first place, and if anything reeked of ghettoization, this is it. I also try to steer clear of anything too “lifestyle-ish,” and this easily falls into that category…but do I have the leisure to hold such views because I’m a quasi-privileged white faggot living in a quasi-gay ghetto in a relatively GLBT tolerant city?

In one of those strange alliances not seen since left wing feminists and right wing conservatives teamed up with Dworkin and McKinnon to fight Canadian porn, I find myself agreeing with conservatives–not because, as Conservative Party Chairman Mike Long argues, I believe GLBT kids should be forced to flounder about in the same failing educational system as their hetero counterparts, but rather because I feel young queers should probably be exposed to homophobic assholes like Long as often as possible so they don’t experience any rude awakenings after graduation. Trial by fire, I guess you’d call it.

But then, they didn’t ask me, did they?

Well hello, nurse! It looks like one of America’s hottest studs is back on the market. Get in line, boys!

I’m growing increasingly frustrated by the Bush team’s accusation that folks are “rewriting history” simply because they’re looking critically at information that was put forward by the administration to further its agenda. If you ask me, that whiny, Because-I’m-the-daddy-that’s-why attitude is a big, fat cop-out. What’s more, it’s a rhetorical dead-end: in W’s garbled lingo, asking questions of the administration’s motives and/or actions is tantamount to high treason.

Maybe I don’t read as much as some of you, but I have yet to find an article that really tackles this issue. I can’t believe I’m the only one who sees the flaws in Bush’s arguments. I mean, Maureen Dowd seems to loathe everything about Bush, and even she hasn’t said anything about it. It’s as though everyone assumes (a) he’s right, and (b) there’s something inherently wrong about re-examining “facts.” Of course, given that a close inspection of the “facts” of the 2000 presidential election–not to mention the endless (and fruitless) investigations of former president Clinton–would probably prove disastrous for Bush and the Right, I’m not really surprised.

Yes, I know: I’m preaching to the choir. And yes, I know: politics are dull. But they pay me to sit at this desk, so I gotta look busy.

If the boyfriend and I were so inclined, we could hire a priest, take a couple of cornball photos, and the local paper would publish a full account of everything…. But of course, that’s not really our style.

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Okay, I’m not saying old people can’t drive–I have nothing against senior citizens–but the AARP had better get its lobbyists on the phone and ready for action. First, the Santa Monica incident, and now this lovely bit of mishegas on our corner. I’m betting dollars to doughnuts that more than a few states are gonna be gunning for driver’s license renewal exams come fall.

To the several lusty lads (and one size queen) who dropped by for the 411 on that one: sorry, but I’ve 86ed the pics and undertaken a vow of silence. Desolée, mais la bouche est fermée.

At least until he starts working for Madonna, which is about the time I’ll be publishing my charmingly chatty memoir, B-Level Bimbo: My Sordid Sorties With the Semi-Stars (Cafe Press, $29.95).