gayberry

I've always loved Palm Springs, and even more so since moving here, but was in a dilemma of how to refer to it. I rename almost everything in my world. My best friend is now Trixie, my car is Kitty (the old Mercedes was Otto- how cute is that) and my hunky trainer I call Binky. And he likes it. Years ago friends relocated to a place up in the grapevine. There were two tiny towns in shopping distance which I nicknamed Hooterville and Pixley. We still use those.

Back in the early 90's ago my ex, John, insisted that Palm Springs was the model for Bedrock. Both Hanna and Barbera had homes here, and if you look at the backgrounds in the Flintstones, Bedrock is a low rise community with Palm trees and mountains in the background. I'm pretty certain he is right on with his theory but it's nonetheless a terrible nickname for anything other than a lizard motel.

I've been referring to it as the Gay Small Town. The population within the city limits is statistically 53% gay or lesbian, but the town retains its very small town charm. My favorite part of the pride parade was the High School Marching Band.

I was discussing it with my new stylist last week (in the fabulous salon next to the fabulous bookstore which is next to the fabulous coffee house) and he agreed. "I call it Gayberry" he nonchalantly remarked.

Gayberry. He nailed it. I'm living in Gayberry. Okay, I'm off to the Snappy Lunch.

chorus boy

I moved to Milwaukee in the summer of 1987. It was my transition to self acceptance. The small town boy struggled with coming to terms with himself in the conservative little Michigan enclave of his youth, and the move allowed him to grow into his skin. At that point in time, Milwaukee was a sparkling city on the lakefront with a very vibrant gay community.



Within a few weeks I discovered the M and M Club in the Historic Third Ward. It was an old Cream City Brick building circa 1904 with a generous vista of windows, the first gay bar I had ever been to that wasn't huddled in darkness (and as I later learned, it was the first gay bar in the city with windows). The openness of the pub became a metaphor for the open and honest life I would have there.

They had live music on the weekends. My favorite was a lesbian couple, Tommie and Nanette from Chicago. Tommie was a pianist and Nanette was the chanteuse. They sang showtunes on Sunday nights. I would sit at a small table and have the other chair removed. I was a sassy little thing, wasn't I?

One very snowy Sunday night in December I was there listening to Nanette (by now per usual) and went to the bar to get a drink. There I struck up a conversation with a whole group of people. They turned out to be members of the newly formed Cream City Chorus, a group in its infancy which just very recently performed its first concert. I met Mark and Ebbie and Jay and Patty and Scoots and Rona and Barb, among others. We hung out and had an much better time than I normally had alone.

I soon went for my voice audition. The musical director said I was a Bass with Baritone tendencies. I suggested he put me in the Baritone section, because I still remember what happened the last time I showed tendencies.

From that point, I felt like I has a home there in Milwaukee. I had peeps to hang out with. We rehearsed, raised funds, rehearsed more, hung out at the M and M, and sang in our first spring concert, Dinner With Gershwin. I grew musically, and as a person. I went from being the only homo (I thought) in the small town to having a circle of gay friends, both men and women.

I sang with them for two seasons before my travel schedule made it too hard to make rehearsals. After that, I spent another year All-Lesbian Stage Crew with Cindy and Deb. It was an awesome time in my young adulthood.

My mind is full of vivid recollections of winter nights at the M and M club, surrounded by the chorus, listening to Tommie and Nanette sing Marshmallow World as the snow flakes crash into the big picture windows.

I'll stay for one more set.

sunday march: palm springs pride

For this week's Sunday series, things were a bit different. This time I stood still and the images came to me. This weekend was Pride weekend,and in Palm Springs that makes for an interesting time. The population inside the city limits is 53% gay, which means for the first time ever I am in the majority. Cool.

The town has a unique flavor. It's Mayberry, but it's Mayberry with a Maribou. It's very small town and charming, and big and political at the same time. My favorites? The Palm Springs High School Marching Band (how totally adorable is that?), Cleve Jones as Honorary Grand Marshall (sorry, photo was blurry), a local dignitary in a four-hundred-thousand dollar Rolls Royce Phantom convertible, California Courage Campaign, the tireless Judy Shepard, and of course perpetual favorites Dykes on Bikes (Bykes?) and the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. An awesome weekend in the Gay Small Town, so have a look- it's Palm Springs Pride:

still plays with cars

I started World O' Jeff nearly three years ago now to share my life- the trials, tribulations and jaded observations of a gay man over 40 in the shining metropolis of Los Angeles. That was my mission statement, and we've done a lot of that. Lots of memories, stories of friends now departed, then I lost Mom, and her stories began coming forth. Throw in my love of architecture and the mid century and you have a pretty good overview. Then Prop 8 happened and we got a little political. Not intending that to be permanent, there are far better political writers than myself, but rather as my way to contribute to the cause.

There's a side of myself that I've only touched peripherally- most of my life I've been an absolutely possessed gearhead. I could identify any car on the road by the age of five. I've spent decades with the cars, and made many great friends over the years.

Last few years I really haven't had time for it. My work schedule, the move to the west side, it just became very second tier for me. And then the move happened. Here in the desert, I play with cars. Enough that I started a second blog for my gearhead side. If you are so inclined, check out the Palm Springs Automobilist.

We'll continue in our usual path here on World O' Jeff, and I have some fabulous Sunday Drives coming up. But for those of you with a little bit of Motor Oil in your veins, drop in and see me at the Palm Springs Automobilist.

That's all for now. Carry on.

radio silence

Oops, sorry about the unintended radio silence. I guess I've been too busy getting settled to talk about, well, getting settled.

First some kudos. Five friends offered to help with the move, which is something I personally anguish over, and in reality six showed up to help. A net plus one. (Thanks, Father Geoff.) Awesome.
I had spent the week packing, boxing, labelling and preparing, so we were able to hit the deck running. Ross and Trixie wrapped all of the furniture in plastic while Mike and Geoff wheeled the twin dollies. David packed the trailer and drove. I did some of everything. The whole place was packed up in just under three hours, the unload took only about 90 minutes. It's great to have friends, and its useful having gymbot friends. there's no way I could have done this alone.

And Serena? She peacefully rested at the Vet's to escape the trauma of the move. She doesn't move well either. Or ride in a car, now that you mention it. Her strategic absence allowed the vet to give her her check up and administer the aforementioned travel sedative. She slept peacefully on the front seat of the Cat-illac.

We're getting settled in nicely. Serena loves looking out the window and has even been outside on the patio with me. She seems very happy and well, serene. I've been very busy socially, turns out I know quite a few people out here. So far all is well. In fact, we love it here and give a big shout out of thanks to all who helped make it happen.

And we'll check in more frequently, I promise.

under desert skies

Serena and I awoke on Tuesday to a perfect Desert morning, she for the first time ever. The skies are blue and clear, palm trees framing our vista of the mountains. Fall is here.The temperature has moderated. I worked in the garage yesterday and it was comfortable. This is the perfect time of year to be here.

We are in Palm Springs. It's always been one of my favorite places, and for fifteen years I have told myself if I could figure out a way to make a living here, that I'd move in a heartbeat. With the imploding LA economy, the time is right to try it if I ever will. An opportunity arose and we are here.

Serena loves it here, she adjusted in a nanosecond. The drive out was uneventful, thanks to a kitty cocktail that allowed her to carelessly slumber, stirring only occasionally to offer a sleepy howl of vague concern. This from the cat who can't be driven around the block. Ahhh, better living through chemistry. I've gotten her a harness, so she can be allowed to explore her fenced-in backyard. I think she'll love it.

So all is well in the World O' Jeff, and in a brand new setting to boot. The strife of Los Angeles will fade into the past. The future is new and very exciting. I'm happy to have you all come along for the ride.

It's like the season where Lucy went to Hollywood, but of course, in real life Lucy had a fabulous mid-century ranch home on Thunderbird. It's about three miles from here. There's so much mid-century here, I'll have my sunday drives booked for weeks to come.

A toast to new beginnings. Lift your glass high.

song to the moon

It's Flicka. Of course it's Flicka. I'm referring to Frederica von Stade, the mezzo-soprano from the land of the Sopranos. That's right, she hails from good old New Jersey USA. The fact that the Jersey Girl has a name derived from German Royalty (just like Liz!) and a voice to match makes her the perfect choice.

I've been obsessed with the haunting beauty of Song To The Moon. It's a lovely piece about the yearning of a young girl, but I'm picking up an additional meaning. To me the aria is about the longing for change, and right now the one longing is me. But change is happening, and I will keep you all informed.


From Dvorak's Rusalka, the aria is interpreted by Martha Kate Lind:

In the beginning of the aria, Dvorak uses large arpeggiated chords to invite the audience into the fairy tale land of Rusalka. The good-natured old Spirit of the Lake, Jezibab, is enjoying the singing of the Wood Nymphs, when his daughter, Rusalka, approaches him sadly. She tells him that she has fallen in love with a handsome young prince and wishes to become human in order to know the bliss of union with him. Deeply saddened, the Spirit of the Lake consents to her request, and leaves. All alone, Rusalka sings this beautiful aria, confiding in the moon the secrets of her longing.




Here's a translation:

Silver moon upon the deep dark sky,
Through the vast night pierce your rays.

This sleeping world you wander by,
Smiling on men's homes and ways.

Oh moon ere past you glide, tell me,
Tell me, oh where does my loved one bide?

Oh moon ere past you glide, tell me
Tell me, oh where does my loved one bide?

Tell him, oh tell him, my silver moon,
Mine are the arms that shall hold him,

That between waking and sleeping he may
Think of the love that enfolds him,

May between waking and sleeping
Think of the love that enfolds him.

Light his path far away, light his path,
Tell him, oh tell him who does for him stay!

Human soul, should it dream of me,
Let my memory wakened be.

Moon, moon, oh do not wane, do not wane,
Moon, oh moon, do not wane....