can't have it all

Via JMG, a new video from a very talented young singer/songwriter named Jay Brannan.

Take a listen to Can't Have It All



Check out his official home page.

And bonus points if you can identify the truck.

dusty smurf

I had a terrific day off and met up with best friend (and source for half of my material) Trixie for a long lunch. We went to the Santa Monica Promenade where we strolled the Farmer's Market perusing overpriced designer vegetables and then sat down at an outdoor cafe for salad and people watching.

Within a few minutes of arrival, we had honed in on the Men's Uniform of the Day- black slacks, black dress shoes, molded black plastic sunglasses, blackberry, and an oxford shirt in a shade of relatively bright blue with a hint of gray to tone it down- a shade that pushed the window without quite putting one's foot through the glass. I nicknamed the color "Dusty Smurf", and then launched into a hallucination of Dusty Springfield as a smurf character, complete with a bouffant hairstyle and that sexy hip swing of hers. We nicknamed them "Dustys".

Within an hour, we had spied eight Dustys strolling by us, including a corner where there were three of them chatting on their blackberries- I speculated that they were talking to one another. Oh, well, there's nothing like expressing one's individuality.

After that, we escaped the dusty bondage and strolled on the Santa Monica pier on one of the first days of spring. There were actual bathers splashing in the water, no less than four vendors offering to write my name on a grain of rice, and a yummy selection of ripped shirtless youth strolling on the planks. No further Dustys to be spotted but we were not mournful, the future of our nation provided adequate distraction. We stopped off at a booth where an old man did chalk portraits, and asked him if he could write our names on a grain of rice. He was not amused, But we were. It felt so good to enjoy a spring day again.

validation

Check out this terrific short film by Kurt Kuenne. Starring TJ Thyne & Vicki Davis, it takes a new spin on validation and people are really seeking:

speechless

NAACP President Julian Bond addressing the Human Rights Campaign Dinner in Los Angeles.

Nothing I can add to this, it is a must see:

judy judy judy

Even Judge Judy gets it! Listen to her on Larry King live:



"The world is changing, and we have to change along with it"

Are you listening, dinosaurs?

only living boy

The geography is off by a coast, but the mood is dead-on perfect. This is an all-time favorite, I've been singing it all day. I chose an alternative version to post, here is adorable San Jose native Chris Burns with a live performance from October 2008.


Paul wrote it for Art, when art was off to Mexico to film "Catch 22". Tom was a reference to their Tom and Jerry days. It really is perfect for me, don't you think?



Tom, get your plane right on time.
I know your part'll go fine.
Fly down to Mexico.
Da-n-da-da-n-da-n-da-da and here I am,
The only living boy in new york.
I get the news I need on the weather report.
I can gather all the news I need on the weather report.
Hey, Ive got nothing to do today but smile.
Da-n-da-da-n-da-da-n-da-da here I am
The only living boy in new york

Half of the time were gone but we dont know where,
And we dont know here.

Tom, get your plane right on time.
I know you've been eager to fly now.
Hey let your honesty shine, shine, shine
Da-n-da-da-n-da-da-n-da-da
Like it shines on me
The only living boy in new york,
The only living boy in new york.


I still adore the classic 1970 recording but this one makes me smile.

I'll write soon. I promise.

forward and back

The time space continum got all bent out of shape this week. The least eventful was the losing of an hour of sleep this morning as the clock moved forward.

But it appears that we lost much more than an hour in California. Thursday's oral arguments challenging the Constitutionality of Proposition 8 appear to have rolled back Californian's rights to 1978 Briggs Initiative levels. Thirty years of progress may be gone. And while it is true that the Justices have not formally announced their decision, we think Justice Joyce Kennard (recall how she was the swing vote when marriage was legalized) tipped her hand (claw?) when she made the following statement:

"You would have us choose between these two rights: the inalienable right to marry and the right of the people to change their constitution,"

Then she spouted this gem, one of the most insensitive dismissals of the Bill of Rights ever spoken by a member of the bench:

"You ask us to willy-nilly disregard the right of the people to change the constitution of the state of California."

Notice no where was concern for the inalienable right of the minority, only the unchecked right of the majority to discriminate at will. Amusing how that happens. One would think that a person who was born in a Japanese American Internment camp would understand the inalienable rights inherent in the human being, but said does not seem to be the case.

So here we are. Although it is unannounced, it is apparent that the will of the People in California can deprive the minority of their civil rights. In other words, mob rule is the new rule, and the only way we can regain our civil rights is via the ballot box.

Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a long and expensive year and a half.

single ladies

A special kind of awesomeness, courtesy of The Dan Band. The trio, featuring LA comedian (and husband of Kathy Najimy) Dan Finnerty as lead singer, and cute as a button back up singers John Kozeluh and Gene Reed, elevate gender bending to an art form.













They normally perform covers of hits by pop divas with au courant swearing added in. Their masculinity is further demonstrated via their gas station attendant and accountant attire respectively. For this most recent video, they have added an actual gas station complete with a most masculine choice of commuter transportation devices, as backdrop for their interpretation of the recent work of Beyonce. Listen carefully and you will be shocked to discover that they are not actually singing, but rather it is really a clever lip synch.

Check them out at their official site here.




Hat tip to David.

defenders of marriage

I haven't yet heard whether I will have civil rights today, and I can't seem to find a forecast. I even turned on the bellweather channel but couldn't find the news.

So while we await word on whether our seat assignment will be in second class or possibly steerage, let's cross our fingers and take a listen to the hilarious and spot-on look at the "Defenders of Marriage" by the hilarious Roy Zimmerman:

zip..

One of my facebook friends in New York went to the new production of Pal Joey, which is one of my all-time favorite shows. It's terribly anachronistic, trapped in the forties and all but defines a period piece. But from that it derives its undeniable charm. Set in a burlesque house in the Tenderloin, women are dames, mice, or broads.

The heart of the story is a triangle between nightclub singer Joey (Sinatra in the film), his wealthy cougar (Rita Hayworth) and the nice chorus girl (Kim Novak). As if there would actually BE a nice chorus girl in burlesque houses in the Tenderloin. Joey's mantra is "treat a dame like a lady and a lady like a dame".

For this scene- the respected society matron is exposed as a former burlesque queen by Sinatra at a charity event she is chairing. She is asked to do one of her old numbers. Add over the top sets, Rita Hayworth clearly loving the number (despite the dubbing), Hermes Pan choreography, a knockout of a Jean-Louis gown which doubles as a weapon, and wonderfully faux intellectual lyrics by Rodgers and Hart, which were updated from the stage version.

I have read the works of Plato, translated most of Cato
Zip! I am such a scholar
I don't care for Whistler's Mother, Charley's Aunt or Schubert's Brother
Zip! Had to make a dollar

Here is the charming result. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mrs. Prentice Simpson:

sunday drive: classic rides

The Buick got away. A spotless '50 sedan, it crossed in front of me on seventeenth street and sped away in a baby blue blur. I followed the Ford Galaxie down Colorado until I could catch it at a light. The Pontiac convertible with the surfboards was going too fast.

I knew where the Buick lives. It hasn't moved in over a decade, slumbering at the end of its driveway. I went around the block so as not to miss the Fairlane. With its baby fins, it is a dedicated to Lynette. And it simply wouldn't be Santa Monica without a Rolls.

The abandoned Jaguars live at the British Car mechanic. They went there for hope, but it apparently evaded them. All of the Volkswagens are in daily use. Some I pass every day, others peeked out at me for the first time. All of these photos except one are from today. The newest car shown predates the Reagan presidency.

These are the classic rides of Santa Monica and Venice. Some are driven every day, some have morphed into inert sculpture. Some are as immaculate as the day they came off the line in Detroit or Wolfburg, some are patinaed, some are useful only as parts. My own daily driver is included. He insisted on it.

Each one makes its own unique statement. Take a look at the classic rides of Santa Monica:

See them all here