ROBBLOG #544

Sometimes, I wish I was a Woman.
~ahem~
~pause~
Okay, maybe if I could sing and look a bit like like Conchita Wurst.
Conchita won last month's Eurovision Song Contest in Copenhagen. I'm not one for the Eurovison contest. Not many Canadians are.
It's a different feel.
A different mood.
Just different from what we are used to.
It's so European.
ABBA came from the contest many years ago. That's about the best example of a famous group I can think of. Now Conchita may change all that. Here's a photo of Conchita below.

 

 

Yikes I hear you say!
What's with the "bearded lady?"
Totally her idea.
Her schtick but it works.
Conchita- otherwise known as Tom Neurwirth- with those same splendid eyes, grew up Gay and he had a rough time of it- like many of us do.
You can read more about Conchita and Tom for yourself. Just do a search but needless to say he struggled and now it looks like he has won the battle. Here's a pic of Tom.
Cute eh?...and those eyes.

More than 30 countries competed. There were 27 countries in the Eurovision final- after two nights of semi-finals.

I watched it all on Out TV- our National Gay Channel here in Canada. Don't go looking for it among your Rogers channels. You have to pay a couple of bucks extra each month to watch. The show was co-hosted by Adam and Tommy D. from Homorazzi- a hit Out TV Show.
Over 3 nights and 10 plus hours, it was a total Canadian Bitchfest.
It was terribly funny and many of the performers needed a good, swift tug stage left or right.
You might be able to watch the show on the Out TV website. Certainly You Tube has tons of clips- maybe the show in its entirety.

Anyway, suddenly, on the first semi-final evening, in a blaze of gold, glory and European pyro-technical splendour Conchita Wurst- rose like a Phoenix.
Here have a look. Double-Click on the video for Full Screen.



I know. For a Drag Queen the beard is a bit frightening but look at those eyes.
Look at that talent.
Listen to the voice.
I was smitten.
Throw me in a golden gown.
Slap on some long, luscious eyelashes and....
Nevermind...
I couldn't pull it off but I have been having night dreams about doing it.

She was pure talent from start to finish. Kind of "Shirley Bassey"-like.
Long arms.
Soft movements.
Big voice.

I've added two of three of her songs on Swisssh Radio.

"Rise Like a Phoenix" the song she performed 3 times throughout the contest is a winner.
The contest after all is supposed to be about the song.
All original songs.
Some good.
Some crap.
Some left you saying WTF?
Conchita? She gave me chills. The You Tube clip above is her rendition of the song- after she won.

Conchita is awesome to be sure.
Confident.
Assured.
Beautiful. (...forget about the beard but it grows on you ~grin~)

Now, if I could lose about 50 pounds and find some brown contacts...

ROBBLOG #543

I was about to write a little something about Religion again and how ridiculous it is in this the 21st Century to hang on to stories and fables from a time when folks thought the earth was flat and the only footwear was sandals.
I hate sandals.
It was a time when new "Messiahs" were a dime a dozen...and that would have been paying too much. A time when a man could hang out with 12 men and a "fag hag" and still get served in restaurants and get invited to weddings. Those were the heady, early days of "fagdom".

Of course today at many restaurants, cafes and wedding, Gays are the hit of the party.
It's a heavy load to carry but it's a cross we must bear!
How things change.

But as usual- I digress.

I had a bunch of stuff I was going to blog about today but I neglected to write any points down. At this time in my life if I don't write things down, I don't remember. Now, as I sit at my keyboard I am drawing a blank.
"So why are you even trying to write?"- you may well ask.
Well, I am hoping inspiration will eventually come...

Wait a minute.
Bear with me.....something is coming to me.
Ah yes....

A few nights ago, I had a dream about a friend who passed last year on Labour Day Monday.
In the dream I was in a white room.
It had a door.
No furniture.
No window.
No pictures on the walls.
Just the door with a gold doorknob.
I opened the door.
It opened onto a wide hallway- like a corridor in a school. In this hallway hundreds of people were
aimlessly walking along- with seemingly no purpose.

Suddenly in front of me I saw my friend walking by.
"Sienny!"- I cried.
I stepped into the hallway and placed a hand on each of her shoulders as I turned her towards me.
At first she seemed in a daze and completely unaware that I was talking to her, what she was doing or where she was going.
"Sienny."- I repeated, "What are you doing here?"
Wherever here was.

You see, I can't remember where I was before I realized I was standing in that white room. Dreams are like that-aren't they?

Suddenly, she seemed to snap out of the daze she had been in. Looking up into my face, she gently hugged my cheeks with her tanned hands and her perfect nails and asked-
"Hello Darling, how are you?"
I'm fine!"- I told her.
I was over the moon with happiness that once again I could look into her eyes and feel her warm touch. She was wearing a rose-coloured dress and she had a fur stole- let's say "fake" fur stole, draped around her shoulders. I didn't say anything about the stole but it was not the first time I had seen Sienny wear fur- fake or otherwise.

Once, a few years ago when Sienny, Tom and I were going out to dinner, Sienny chose to wear a real fur coat. She had had the coat for decades.
"Aren't you afraid that someone will throw a can of paint on that while you're wearing it?"- I said, as I pointed to the coat.
"Not to worry Darling. I didn't kill it. It was dead when I bought it!"

Now, here she was in front of me wearing- not the full fur coat as she had all those years ago but a stole casually flung around her shoulders.

As she held my face in her hands I asked how she was.
"I don't really know Darling, I am not sure what to do or why I am here."

At that moment I woke up.
There was nothing else about the dream I could remember but I will never forget her voice or the feel of her touch.

We miss you "Mrs. P" and don't worry, sooner or later you'll figure it out.
That we are sure about.

ROBBLOG #542

 

O N T A R I O   Provincial Election June 12, 2014

 

 

Y E A H !!

First elected Woman Premier of Ontario Kathleen Wynne-

Plus a Majority in the June 12th Ontario election!

Kathleen is also the first elected Gay Premier.

Congrats to both her and her Partner Jane.

 

I met them both last summer in Toronto at Pride and marched in the Pride Parade

with them and Justin Trudeau too! All wonderful, nice people- no matter their political colouring. It means a bright future for Canada and Ontario! I didn't want to play the "Gay" card but I have to.

I am proud that our province has a Gay Premier and proud too that it wasn't mentioned in the campaign- even by the other parties.

 

As we were lucky to have a man such as Jack Layton in Ottawa as the leader of Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition for such a short time before his passing from cancer, Ontario is very lucky to have Kathleen as our Premier and just in time for World Pride on June 29th! So, for the next four years the Liberals are in the driver's seat and hopefully by the next Ontario election, Justin Trudeau with be in the Prime Minister's Office on Parliament Hill in Ottawa.

 

I couldn't be happier.

 

However, here where I live in Simcoe North the "Den of the Conservative Party", Garfield Dunlop was re-elected for his fifth consecutive time. Yes folks, more pancake breakfasts populated by tons of old folks and Garf's smiling face at every local event and parade throughout the year. I can smell those pancakes on the griddle right now- and I'm an "old folk" myself!

 

Of course if one looks at the Liberals with Fred Larsen they did amazingly well locally and if the Libs and the NDP (led by Doris Middleton in Simcoe North) formed a new party together they would have beaten Garfield handily.

 

Actually, If one adds up all those Liberal (16,412), NDP (7,851) and Green Party Votes (4,031 of them "green folks" ) it would total 28, 294, a 6 thousand vote lead over Mr. Dunlop and with only 51% of us bothering to vote, I'd say Mr. Dunlop doesn't have a particularly "popular" win, just the same old Tory win that has happened in Simcoe North since Jesus was a choirboy.

 

Gee, those "lucky" folks in Barrie. 136 thousand people- many from the GTA. who move up the 400 for cleaner skies and cheaper housing. They bring along their "liberal" views that translates into Liberal votes making Barrie a Liberal fortress all the way from Penetanguishene Road to Innisfil Beach Road.

 

So, overall a good day.

Good election results and I am thankful that I live in a  Liberal province- soon to be without the threat of a Tim Hudak.

 

Yes, it was a disappointing- yet not surprising, Simcoe North result but there's an excitement building inside of me. I can hardly wait to shake Kathleen Wynne's hand again this year at World Pride in Toronto, only this time as an elected "Premier of Ontario"!

Nota Bene

I have been reminded that Garfield- as our local rep, no matter the colour of one's political stripes- even mine, has been supportive of my endeavours.
|
Garfield was a special guest on a Hank Christmas Show a few years back.  He was quite funny and kept up with Hank's shenanigans. He has sent greetings/advertised in several Garage Door Players' programmes. As well, he wrote a congratulatory letter in the programme that celebrated last year's 10th Anniversary for the Garage Door Players. He also sent Swisssh Radio a plaque recognizing five years on the internet airwaves.

For all this and more I am grateful.

To be fair I should also mention Premier Kathleen Wynn also sent a congratulatory letter (Orillia Mayor Angelo Orsi too) which was  included in our programme for "Sadie Flynn Comes to Big Oak"- our GDP's 10th Anniversary Show!

R*

 

 

 

 

 

ROBBLOG #541

I was out roller blading today.

My second attempt this summer. I have had the blades for years but it always takes some time to get used to blading. To simply be able to strap 'em on and not feel the pain in one's foot as one is roller blading requires a period of adjustment.

So, as I was on my way along the trail, I decided after a few blocks to have a seat on a bench to allow my ankles and feet to stop screaming at me. I sat having a sip of water when I saw a demure , older man come off the trail and walk in my direction.

Is demure the right adjective to use for a man? Is it correct? I'll text Jonah Hill. He always knows the right thing to say!

Anyway, I could see this man in a navy blue jacket, pants and sandals, coming towards me slowly, albeit a bit hesitantly.

"Can I help you?"- I asked.

"I am looking for Tiff Rd."- he said quietly.

"This is Tiff Road." - I say. "Do you live on Tiff Road?"
Obviously he was having a problem. He wasn't quite sure where he was.

"Where do you live?"- I continued.

"On Lake Street."- he says.

He started reaching in is pocket.
"Do you have it written down?" I stood up off the bench.
He took out an old brown wallet, flipped it open and showed me his driver's licence. The man in the photo looked nothing like the man standing in front of me.
"Your name is Robert?"
"Yes, it is. Robert Cleavley."

I checked the address.
"You live on Lake Street not Tiff Road."
He didn't seem to know for sure. He did know there was a park nearby. A small park. I pointed across the road to the small park called "MacArthur Park".

At this point I knew I couldn't leave him alone but I was towering over him in my roller blades.
"I can't really walk you home with these blades on."- I said.
I didn't know what to do and there was no one else about. I guess I would have to call the police for help.

Then, at that moment along comes an officer in a police car and stops at the corner. I waved to him in a Yoo-Hoo manner. You know, like an old farm wife calling the men in for supper, right hand held high, flinging a  tea towel frantically in circles as I waved my hand.
What a queen!

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Officer!"- I yelled as I waved my imaginary tea towel.

He was a huge man, amply filling the driver's seat behind the steering wheel. He had a big bald head and was wearing- what I guessed was, police-issue sunglasses. You know the kind.
His name could have been Bubba or Frank or Tiny even.
I didn't ask.
He stopped and looked up at me through the open passenger side window.
I am sure he was thinking- What the Hell does this Fag want?

I use Fag here in the way it is meant to be used not the half-baked way that Jonah Hill tried to explain to the media his unfortunate use of the word last week along with the additional words "suck my cock". In this circumstance, I didn't feel I needed to say those words to the officer, nor did he intimate he wanted to say those words to me- unless of course a fine bottle of my favourite white wine was a part of the deal...
But I digress...
Anyway, I couldn't see his eyes, what with the sunglasses and all.

Back to the story.
At this point I looked down and realized I was clutching my chest with my right hand, fingers stretched wide, while bending down trying not to topple over in my roller blades. I'll bet the officer could smell "The Gay". I explained the situation and eventually he got our of the cruiser and came around to my side and spoke with the gentleman, asking for his ID.

He helped the man into the back seat and said he'd see him safely home.
He just totally practically ignored me.
See if I care- I thought.

A lady walking her dog who had stopped to watch as the latter part of my story was unfolding, looks to me and says:
"Good Job!"
"Yes, my Good Deed for the day!" I say as I head in the direction of the paved trail.

I'll bet the cop didn't give me a second look.
Too bad.
My ass- in particular, was looking incredibly firm and nice today.

ROBBLOG #540

So, I'm riding along the bike path through Couchiching Beach Park- just opposite the Champlain Monument.

The bike path/walking path is divided from the road by concrete parking dividers. As I am riding along- just a few feet before me, a van pulls across the dividers and parks directly in front of me. A door swings open. The two cars on my left come to a stop because they can't pass safely with this van door flung open into the single lane.
I too stop short.
A women- completely unaware of the problem she has just caused, steps out of the van and closes
the door. She walks to the back of the van where I am stopped on my bike.
It's as if she doesn't know I am there.

"You realize you've parked right on the path..."- I say to her.

"Sorry."- she replies in a soft, damsel-in-distress kind of voice- "But I've lost my glasses."

I look to the couple in the car to my left and we all shake our heads in unison.
The cars move along and I ride out around the van on the left.

I wonder what she meant?
Did she mean she had lost her glasses and therefore didn't see that she parked right on the path?
Why was she driving if she lost her glasses in the first place.
or...
had she pulled up short and parked on the pathway because she was just popping over the fence that divides the path and roadway from the grassy area, just to have a wee peek for her "lost glasses"?

Whatever the reason, it was a dumb fuck of a thing to do and what she said didn't make sense.
A parking area was just a few car lengths away.
I swear I saw Champlain- high atop his monument, shake his head in disbelief.

Were her glasses going to get up and walk away if she didn't look for them that very minute or couldn't she see the parking area without her specs?

Whatever the reason it was a stupid and wrong thing to do.

I get so tired of the excuses and the people during the warmer months who pay no mind to that pathway. It is well-marked. They must see folks biking, walking, rollerblading or strolling along.

It's even worse where the mariners back their boats into the water down by French's Stand. I hope they deal with traffic and other boaters on the water better than they deal with pathway traffic on dry land. It's all for them and one for them- not for all or us.
It's a fucking obstacle course for as long as the boating season is in full swing.

Just be aware if you do any of those activities on the pathway through the park. Be aware too of
those "silent" e-bikes. They have just added another dimension to the phrase- "an accident waiting to happen". These bikes creep up silently and whiz out and around you in a flash. Very few people ring their buzzer to let you know they are there. If you ride a self-powered bike, a rear view mirror is a must- and good hearing a plus!

Oh and the tourists?
They have even less of a fucking idea. I imagine they wonder why someone would paint yellow and white lines on the pavement where they have to walk or cross over to get to the other side. Don't even get me started with people who walk and push baby strollers on the wrong side of the white line. Sometimes, after their stroll, I see them climb into their KIA's and drive away- hopefully on the "right" side of the road!

I gotta run. You see, I've misplaced my glasses and I have to go out onto the street to hold up traffic to look for them.

Happy Summer- in spite of them all!

ROBBLOG #539

"Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of Rum!"

I am reading Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson.
Can't you guess?

It's a classic I have never set eyes on but I started reading the book on my Samsung phone as I sat keeping my Mother company during her final weeks. It's an easy read- even with all the "Avast me Hardies" and "Larsh 'im to the yard arm!"

So far, it's a fast and interesting read.

I haven't really cast the book in my mind's eye but I can see Mr. Hugh Jackman cast in a pirate movie. He would appear stripped to the waist with a golden amulet hanging amidst the hair on his ample and well-tanned pectoral muscles. Starting at his waist he'd be wearing tight pirate pants featuring wide red stripes all the way down to his muscular calves. The pants would be jagged and torn at the bottoms and bulging...well, where pirate pants worn by Hugh should bulge. His size 11 feet- I checked on the internet- yes, size 11, are bare and tawny brown in colour.

He'd have a scabbard tucked through a belt made of black, twisted rope encircling his trim waist and maybe a golden earring in his right ear with a nipple piercing in his left titty. Maybe one tat on a broad forearm- a sketch of a palm tree perhaps...
That just about does it.
Do you have a picture in your mind's eye?

When I come across a character that fits this image, I'll cast Hugh in the part.

In the book, we are about to land on Treasure Island for the first time. Long John Silver is up to something to be sure. I'll have to read more to find out.

I do see the image of Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean as I read but I haven't sound anyone with the same sense of humour or timing in the book so far, so I am keeping him on the sidelines as well. Hugh and Johnny are sitting off to the right just out of my mind's eye camera range, under a Date Palm in their respective canvas "actor" chairs. Their names emblazoned in black script across the chair backs. They each have a cold drink in their hands filled to the brim with lots of shaved ice.

Every once in a while I see Johnny sneaking a peak over the top of his black RayBans at Hugh's massive biceps as Hugh curls his arm towards his full lips to take a drink. Johnny finds his thoughts unsettling and grabs the latest issue of House and Home from his backpack to take his mind off... things.

So, I will read on searching for a character wherein I'll cast Hugh and yes- Johnny too.

"Here's to ourselves and hold your luff, plenty or prizes and plenty of buff."

Er....I mean "duff".

ROBBLOG #538

Phone rings...

Hello?
Yes, this is Rob.
(pause)
Your show? What show?
(pause)
Oh that show. Yes, I seem to have heard you were directing that production.
(pause)
What's that? You have a part for little ole me?
(pause)
This is such a surprize and an honour. I never expected anything like this.
Yes, I would be delighted to be in your show!
(pause)
It's a lead role?  Why yes, again, I would be honoured.
(pause)
Fine. I look forward to hearing from you regarding the rehearsal schedule.
(pause)
Yes, you have a good day... and thank you very much for calling.

Click.

I am practising being surprized
Actually I am being a "Diva" hoping the phone will ring and it'll be a Director
offering me a part in a show.
It happens every now and then.
Sometimes a producer calls and hints that I should be at an audition. They never come right out and ask but this time I am hoping it will be different. This time I am hoping I will be asked without having to go through the audition process.

What a little self-righteous, snubbed-nosed Diva I have become!
Still, I am hoping it might happen in the next few weeks- or days.

That's what it would take. A personal invite to become a member of the cast.
It would be terrific. It's one of my favourite shows and one of my favourite Directors.
Goodness. What a huge head I have!
Don't I just think my armpits don't smell.

What's that you ask?
Have I been to Diva-Bitch school?
No.
Nothing like that at all.
It's very simple.
I would take a part if it was offered to me.
That's all. However, I am not going to go out of my way to perform like a trick pony to get it.
Nor will I sleep with anyone or allow them to fondle my private ~ahem~...

That is so Hollywood and Hollywood this is not.

So, I stay focused.
I practise my best- "I am totally honoured and blown away" tone of voice and
I wait for the phone to ring.