Tag Archives: new york

Lame Adventure 202: We Love New York!

Empire State Building glowing with same-sex marriage pride.

Milton and I were in the East Village attending an excellent off-Broadway play called Unnatural Acts currently on the boards at one of our favorite theaters, Classic Stage Company, when the historic vote for marriage equality was taking place in the New York State Senate.  This play, based on the true story about a group of persecuted gay male college students attending Harvard in 1920, is a disturbing episode that Harvard kept secret for over eighty years.  As tough as it was to watch at moments, and the food coma I suffered thanks to the Pad Thai washed down with a Passion Fruit Mojito I had for dinner didn’t help, after seeing this tragedy we reflected on how far this country has come in its attitude about homosexuality 91 years later.  Certainly, what happened tonight in Albany was remarkable.  Neither Milton nor I ever dreamed that same-sex marriage would be legal in our lifetime, but three years ago, we never imagined this country would ever elect an African American president, or that we’d ever find Osama bin Laden.  We continue to feel wonderful about being wrong.

Eagle-eyed Lame Adventure contributor, Coco, while stiletto-pounding the pavement in her lower Manhattan neighborhood earlier this week, snapped these photos in the windows of a Levi’s store in anticipation of this historic vote.

She ain't heavy she's my spouse.

Hat off, arm in arm!

Possibly, I’m prejudiced but the just married boys strike me as a bit shy with their backs turned when paired with the jubilant in your face butch/femme girls.  Coco opined that the girl-on-girl display was much more fun.

Friday evening, while Milton and I were taking a pre-play stroll down University Place, we momentarily took a break from bickering about his insistence that The Killing of Sister George is the best lesbian themed film ever, when we noticed these eye-catching Ralph Lauren Rugby store windows.

Beautiful brides.

Beautiful (but headless!) grooms.

We were so bothered by why the chaps were missing their heads, we went inside to ask what that was about.  The adorable clerk explained that in the haste to pull this window display together, Ralph’s Visual Management department did not have male mannequins with heads available, but soon, the guys will have their heads.  Milton told me that he’s going to keep an eye on those windows.

Lame Adventure 174: Rough Sex

Since I am not inclined to conduct a poll, but I have a very fertile imagination, possibly the last fertile aspect of my being, I will guess that most New Yorkers, and by most New Yorkers, I am zeroing in on the five boroughs, because I frequent upstate about as often as I do the Arctic, and until recently I would have gladly excluded Staten Island, until one of my subscribers, Beckyyk, a rather promising blogger, happens to hail from that locale forcing me to expand my narrow mind, would have skeptically assumed that the Empire state bird is the pigeon.   I suggest, “skeptically assumed” because New Yorkers might be thinking in the backs of their heads:

New Yorkers thinking en masse:  Can that possibly be right?

Since Lame Adventures is an unreliable source of educational spewing, no, it’s not.  New York actually has two things in common with Missouri.  The first is good help.  In early 2010, my boss, Elsbeth, at my urging, imported my sidekick, Greg, from St. Louis.  We had interviewed him the previous summer, so when we had a vacancy in February 2010, he immediately came to my mind.  The fact that I had a scintilla of recollection of a straight young guy at all, much less more than six months after meeting him, so stunned Elsbeth, she said:

Elsbeth:  Call him.  Hire him.  Declare a holiday.

Coincidentally, Greg’s birth-state bird happens to be the same as New York’s, the bluebird.   Over the weekend, I saw a bluebird in the garden near my building, and I thought:

Me (thinking):  Hello, little first bluebird of spring!

I then took this photograph.

I get my spots from my father, too.

And had a sudden hankering for squab.

Recently, late in the day while at work, Greg entered the office from his warehouse.  He interrupted my favorite pastime, clock watching, when he announced:

Greg:  Two pigeons are really going at it on the air conditioner!  It’s like a rape.

In response I grabbed my camera and entered the warehouse where indeed nature was taking a very loud, ferocious, feather-flapping course right outside the window atop the AC.  I highly regretted not having my Flip video at the ready and equally regretted being too burned out at that hour to recall I can also shoot video on my Canon digital camera.

I've got you cornered, now!

Get back over here!

Does my wing span excite you, baby?

You'll like this position, I dive off this wire into you.

Do you have a cigarette?

This week, Greg announced that George and Martha have resumed their romance in their boudoir atop our turd-encrusted AC.  He reported to me that they appear to have worked out their differences, or maybe George saw daylight and realized that poking Martha repeatedly in the head with his beak is not the foreplay technique that revs her engine.  Take it away, Otis!