BLEST BE THE TIE THAT BINDS

Roadside attraction
I've spent this week down in West Virginia.
While not all that far from Manhattan, it's
another world entirely. However the biggest
difference seems to it's southernly exposure.
Things are obviously slightly warmer here
as evidenced by the fact that it's greener.
Unlike New York there is no snow on the
ground. And while it's definitely not time
to don one's shorts, it feels like spring is
imminent. Especially given sunny clumps
of naturalized daffodils are blooming along
the highway. And said bright spots spring to
mind two women near and dear to my heart.

Southern exposure
For many reasons my mother loathed the city.
While she appreciated all of it's benefits, Ethel
hated the congestion, crowds, dirt, and other
aspects of urban life. Post Dad's retirement
they moved south to Virginia. Far below the
Mason Dixon line she reveled in her version
of nirvana. And like it's neighbor to the west,
Virginia blossomed earlier than up north. The
result being an riotous explosion of dogwood,
redbuds, magnolias, rhododendron, and azalea.
And of course tulips, hyacinth, narcissi, and
daffodils. All of which bloomed week after
week due to the temperate climate.

Twice as nice
Upon the birth of her first grand daughter on
March 26th - Mother traveled north with an
armful of daffodils plucked from her garden.
From then on said blossoms symbolized one
of life's gifts - my daughter "E." For many
years thereafter Mother sent a box of home
grown yellow beauties for "E's" birthday.
Thus whenever I see said posies I think of
both my mother and her beloved first grand
baby. From day one they shared an intense
and intimate bond. Which at times could be
tested given both ladies were VERY strong
women - i.e. two of a kind. WATCH OUT!

As memory recalls
A child of divorced parents - Ethel grew up
in her Grandmother's home. Hence Mother
understood the role grandparents can play
in a child's development. Recently a distant
cousin reached out via ancestry.com. His
uncle was my great grandmother's nephew.
While attending art school in Manhattan
during the early thirties he frequently dined
at his Aunt Sadie's home. For the rest of his
life he recounted tales of the formality and
elegance there within. And suddenly I had
a deeper understanding of my Mother. And
confirmation of why she was who she was.

Hand me downs
Ethel was raised in a world defined by a
distinct set of rules. Manners and decorum
were always of upmost importance. These
strict guidelines defined the way she (and
laster we) lived. Said elegance was natural.
Never forced nor awkward. Subsequently
I've carried on her traditions which in these
modern times might be considered archaic.
Yet using linen napkins or placing catsup
in a proper receptacle is the only way that
I can live. Proof that who we are is the end
result of a long series of multi-generational
traditions. Talk about the ultimate set up...

Equal opportunity
In many ways "E" is her father's daughter.
However for many reasons she plays by her
own set of rules rather than mine. I can see
elements of my Mother in my eldest child.
Much like Ethel, "E" loves a bargain. She
also aggressively rules her roost yet is able
to embrace her spouse's counsel as needed.
Most important she fiercely loves my dear
grand daughter and thus will do anything to
protect her. Such devotion is the greatest of
gifts any parent can give to their child. As
the offspring of one great lady - I'm happy
to see my mother's legacy live on in "E."

Blossom time
Now a grandparent, I wonder what element
of my history will be passed on to the next
generation. Last summer my grand daughter
"M" came to visit. Staying in our home was
a new experience to her. At times we butted
heads over my "house rules," However I'm
certain said foray was a life-changing trip.
Monday my youngest grandson arrives for
a week. Not yet two, my hope is that while
together we'll create some memories. After
all, it's the little things in life that make the
difference. Thus if nothing else our love is
passed on... and on... and on... and... on...

LEAP OF FAITH

Spring it on
That's what my beloved said this morning
as I planned my ensemble. After weeks of
temperatures below normal it's starting to
warm up. Thus New Yorkers are trotting
out their spring togs. Here in Manhattan
fashion is social theater. The simple act
of walking to work is a style statement.
All of a sudden I'm seeing color within
our sea of black. Frankly, it's entertaining,
often inspiring, and occasionally surprising!

Look and learn...
What is most wonderful about the urban
runway is that it democratizes fashion.
Any woman or man can be exposed to
the best if they simply are observant.
Stand on the right corner and you'll see
Chanel, Lanvin, and Pucci on parade
right in front of you. Cross the street
and stand on the opposite side to view
something edgy, young, and unique.
It's a veritable l'ecole de la mode.

The good, bad, and ugly
Caution, not everything you see while
out and about will be pleasing to the
eye. This morning I saw a young lady
wearing a chic head to toe black
ensemble accented with neon yellow
flats and piquant canary scarf. While
her look certainly garnered my attention,
it's impact was actually quite "stinging".
Along with errant fashionistas one may
also meet quite a few fashion victims.
Their bold and provocative style
statements startle due to their obvious
lack of knowledge or restraint.

Love for sale
One of the treasures of Manhattan is it's department stores. Where else can a young lady on a limited income look, touch, and don couture? If she is bold enough to enter the inner sanctum of Bergdorf, any girl can intimately view the intricate internal construction of a designer gown. Quickly one learns what separates Zara from Prada.

Walk the walk...
Once you leave the city streets, where
else can one strut their stuff? Sadly
America has become a vast sea of
"comfort". Our national uniform seems
to have become tees, denim, and a
designer handbag. I often wonder what
might happen if these ladies had access
to as much fashion as the average
New Yorker sees on the street in one day?
Dubuque Iowa might be a prettier place.

ANIMAL INSTINCT

It's a jungle out there.
Working in a large organization can be quite intimidating. People are animals! Therefore we spend most of our days with movers, shakers, and other vermin. Gather a diverse group under one roof and things are bound to get out of control! Tread lightly and carry a big stick!

Dog eat dog
It's funny. The older I get, the wiser I realize my Father was. Early on in my career, Howard gave me this advice - "People are like animals. Once you figure out what species they are... it's easier to tame them." Over the years I've used this approach and it works! Put a leash on it!

King of the Jungle
As a leader you have to strut your stuff. There's always a king pin who majestically rules over the rest of the bunch. I'm not liein' when I warn you that while they seem tame, they might lash out at you. So, the best thing to do is to stay out of their immediate reach whenever possible.

Nine lives
Never trust this crazy cat for anything. They're totally self consumed, sneaky, unreliable, and yet able to survive almost anything unscathed. Most important, know that trying to get them to align is virtually impossible. Just occasionally stroke them and hopefully they'll take the bait!

Totally nuts
Frankly, some of your top performers can be more than a little squirrely. When given a task they will scurry around and do almost anything possible to maximize their results. While their pace is frenetic, you know that when times are tough, you can tap into their hidden stash.

The elephant in the room
It's obvious that they're oblivious to everything around them. These doddering duds plod along unintentionally wreaking havoc wherever they go. But please beware, given their truncated approach, one can easily be crushed under the weight of their cumbersome execution.

Mooooove it along
If nothing else they're reliable. They travel in packs and will go anywhere and do anything you tell them to do. Warning: never assume they can think for themselves. Simply keep them happy and then milk them for all they're worth. And remember... that's all of their worth.

On the hunt
Prey tell me why does anybody ever trust these fellows? Pretty to look at, they're always ready to pounce on you in a nano second. Just watch your back and never give them anything that could give them a competitive edge. Otherwise your kindness may bite you in the ass!

A total zoo
The next meeting you're in, rather than keep your head in the sand, identify the species around the table. Trust me - this is not a flight of fancy. It's easier when you know what type of bird you're up against. Slowly you'll tame those wild beasts and ultimately rule the roost!

BUDGETARY RESTRAINTS

Trickle down economics 
I've been trying to avoid all of the budgetary
buzz in Washington. Navigating through the
reactionary rhetoric involved is simply more
than I can handle. Obviously a leftist liberal
like myself finds the very idea of "killing"
Big Bird or silencing our public broadcasting
offensive. As does eliminating after school
programs or meals on wheels. However I'm
also an adult. Therefore I know that we all
must live within our means whether we like
it or not.  Hence I heartily agree that we must
spend less. However I disagree with how the
Republicans plan to do so.

Alternative financing
Much like children of the great depression,
my generation was changed by the 2008
recession. Shaken to our core, many lost all
sense of security. Suddenly we had no upside,
safety net, or easy out. Since then we all have
slowly regained our momentum. Embracing
the fact that we can never go back - even if
we wanted to. Slowly we've adapted to our
compromised circumstances. Hence for the
first time in many of our lives we're investing
in our futures. I'm no longer willing to waste
my hard earned cash on short term gratification.
Rather I'm focused on leveraging my assets.

Cash n' carry
Budgetary constraints require that we all make
choices. For me that might mean the difference
between guzzling a Rioja versus a Chateauneuf
du Pape. Or igniting a Votivo rather than a lush
Cire Trudon. However we reach a point where
reality inevitably usurps fantasy. Whether thats
driven by budgetary constraints or a change of
heart depends on the individual. Part of me has
decided that enough is enough. Therefore I'm
rediscovering that less is more. And that a bit
of compromise is often easier than one thinks.
Plus in the end creates a plethora of long term
benefits. A penny saved is a penny earned...

Inequity fund
After a lifetime of conspicuous consumption, I'm
becoming anything but a spendthrift.  I've finally
figured out that just because something is beyond
expensive - the price doesn't guarantee it's value.
As I wander the hallowed halls at Bergdorf's I'm
taken aback by the crazy prices. Honestly, little
is worth all that. My favorite wardrobe elements
now hail from Uniqlo. Hence it's not unusual for
me to be dressed head to toe in an outfit that cost
under $100. And trust me, that's a huge transition
from my prior mode of decoration. So either I'm
a new man or simply an old codger who finally
decided to compromise his standards.

A delicate balance
All that I know is that I'm finally ready, willing,
and able to compromise when necessary. Thus
whether that defines a state of detente or decline
is up for consideration. For the first point in my
life I'm happily living within my means. Which
eliminates a lifetime of financial angst. Could it
be that finally I've learned my lesson? My only
question is whether our political leaders and all
of the self-interest groups can embrace a similar
approach to redemption. Rather than bickering,
I hope the two sides can somehow meet in the
middle. After all, isn't that what "balance" is all
about? An equalization of everyone's priorities?

Will my dreams come true?

The omen
Last night I had a dream. It involved Frank and
I hosting a rather large gathering of family and
friends on a summer evening. It took place in
a large, rambling Victorian akin to any Nancy
Meyer film set. Filled with a plethora of folks
we've known and loved who are no longer in
our lives. Throughout this vision a series of
repugnant revelations unraveled in the mode
of a Bergman or Woody Allen saga. Slowly
the summer dusk turned dark due to disdain,
hatred, and not so subtle prejudice. As one by
one our guests rejected us for simply being us.
Making my slumber party a wake up call.

True or false
Said dream wasn't a nightmare. Rather it was
the manifestation of a lifetime spent in a haze
of purposeful alienation. My dream was a not
so gentle reminder that bigotry can attack at
any time. Even within the context of a scene
taken straight out of "Hannah and Her Sisters."
You see, people are cruel. However rarely do
they attack in a angry or blatant manner. That's
where my night vision differed from reality.
There within a long dead - dear friend of my
family unleashed a surprising anti-gay tirade.
My dream event never actually happened. Yet
it makes me wonder what he really thought...

Hidden agendas
You see, rarely do people say what they think.
Especially when it condemns people who are
near and dear. In theory I can understand their
struggle. Frank and I are a somewhat likable
pair given at times we tend to be entertaining.
Hence many like the concept of mixing within
our social milieu. Yet years of bad experiences
have taught us that few are actually willing to
embrace us for who we truly are. Once deep
in the reality of a loving gay relationship we
can see a change in their perspective. It's the
the realization that they don't approve of our
"lifestyle." Whether they say it or not.

Party lines
Accepting that the love you share is offensive
to many is not easy. One's obvious Pavlovian
reaction is to hide or attempt to be palatable
to your audience at large. However having
spent half of my life trying to be someone I'm
not, such subterfuge is no longer an option.
Hence Frank, myself, and others like us exist
within a context that considers us outsiders.
Which causes us to question other's sincerity.
To protect ourselves from the disappointment
of letting anyone into our lives and hearts who
is unwilling to accept us for who we are. And
ultimately makes sure that we know just that.

Mixed messages
Go ahead, deny it. Over the years I've seen it
in many eyes. Heard it in off notes of disdain
within the context of cocktail chatter. Thus
my dream was more than a vaporous vision.
It was a sub conscious conglomeration of
a lifetime spent getting the message. Hate
rarely occurs out in the open. Instead it lurks
beneath a veneer of smiles, camaraderie, and
at times not so polite behavior. All with the
intent to marginalize those who we consider
different. Within such a social context you'll
know when it's time to leave. That's after
you shift from being a novelty to PARIAH.

Trust fund
It's been said that we all live and learn. Hence
the sobering realization that people like us can't
trust people like you. Over time we've built up
a rather thick veneer that protects us from the
judgement of opinionated strangers, tentative
acquaintances, and punitive peers. Leaving us
to limit our exposure to a very small sphere of
influence. Populated with those limited few
who have passed the test of time and proven
their sincerity. That's the reason we stay close
to ourselves. We've learned that it's wiser to
limit our exposure. And avoid the inevitable.
Yet still we often suffer the consequences.

Routine violations
Our worst nightmare - a rebirth of prejudice
and bigotry is coming to fruition across our
globe. Fueled via the validation of leaders
such as President Trump, an angry few are
aggressively unleashing their evil upon the
rest of us. In the process their not so hidden
agenda unleashes a long subjugated poison
that lay dormant within some of us. Such a
possibility should be of great concern. A not
so subtle reminder of why a Holocaust could
operate within the context of a "civilized"
country. And you wonder why people like
me are afraid...  Time to wake up America!

SEEN and HEARD

Old acquaintance
Saturday night we joined in on the celebration
of Glenn Close's seventieth birthday. It was an
intimate affair with approximately seventeen
hundred in the audience. All after we'd reveled
in Glenn's performance as Norma Desmond in
Sunset Boulevard. Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber's
musical remake of the Billy Wilder classic film
may be amongst his most flawed. Hence until
this weekend I'd purposefully avoided seeing
it. However once Ms. Close stepped out of the
shadows to sing "With One Look" I knew I was
witnessing a seminal of theatrical performance.
Leaving me to stand up and yell - BRAVO!

Past imperfect
Live theater is an intimate experience. Prior
to the advent of movies and subsequently
broadcast technology, great performances
were fleeting at best. All was lost once both
the actors and their audiences finally exited
the premises. Even if captured for posterity,
most theatrics seem stilted. That's because
the magical connection between the artist
and those out there in the dark is lost in the
translation. I never saw Chita Rivera dance
a la Fosse yet she stopped me dead in my
tracks in "The Visit."  NOTHING is better
than watching a legend make HISTORY.

The older, the better
The theater is one of the rare venues where
age actually becomes an asset. After a long
and lauded career Elaine Stritch didn't hit
her peak until well into her seventies. That's
when she launched her one woman show
"At Liberty" which chronicled her career's
highs and lows. She strutted her stuff via a
mesmerizing mix of music and monologue.
Later we sat at the table immediately before
her as she ruled the room at the Cafe Carlyle.
And then there was the moment when she sat
and sang "Liaisons" in Sondheim's "A Little
Night Music." You could hear a pin drop...

Two of a kind
Often star power alone is more than enough.
Years ago I saw Lauren Bacall in "Woman
of The Year" a somewhat tepid attempt to
capitalize on her prior success in "Applause."
To this day I can't recall nor hum any of the
music from that show given it was all quite
forgettable. Yet I can't forget the power and
panache that Ms. Bacall emanated from that
stage. That was reason enough to see her.
The same can be said for Eartha Kitt, that
glorious she cat. By the time we saw her she
was nearing her end. However upon a stage,
she was timelessly alluring and amazing.

Few and far between
Maybe it's because we're gay but we both
adore Bernadette Peters. In triumphs or
duds, she never fails to dazzle. One of our
greatest nights in the theater was her last
performance in "Annie Get Your Gun."
The evening was an intimate love fest in
which she shone like the star she is. Yet
at times even legends aren't as legendary
as one might hope. Both Bernadette and
Patti Lupone failed in their portrayals of
Momma Rose in "Gypsy." And I prefer
to forget Patti's failed stint in "Women
on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown."

Hello again
On the top of our current list of "must sees" is
Bette Midler in "Hello Dolly." Currently the
price of admission is three hundred bucks for
a nose bleed seat. However hopefully once the
hoopla dies down we can bag some last minute
orchestra seats for about the same. Everyone is
abuzz about how amazing she is in said role.
Given we adored her in her last performance
as super agent Sue Mengers we can't wait to
see Bette as Dolly Levi. Even at the ripe old
age of seventy three, theres few better suited
to play a matchmaker. We just need to get our
seats before this parade passes us by.

Final run
Even with the greatest of stars one must accept
the good, bad, and ugly. However ultimately in
the midst of the worst of evenings - a true star
can take you places you never knew existed.
As evidenced by our evening with Liza Minelli
and the Dallas Symphony. Seriously, she should
have stayed home given she was an unmitigated
disaster. However for a few brief moments, Liza
was Liza. And those brief interludes amidst the
wreckage were more than worth any pain and
suffering. Therefore as long as these old broads
are willing to hit the boards, we'll be ready and
waiting to be wowed!