Whine and Cheese

My dream last night had me in Europe somewhere, promoting a book (possibly a comic book) that I had written. I left a building and decided to go for a flight to my hotel. So I grabbed a large fallen tree branch with a curved end, started running, and I took off into the air flying, like a witch on a broomstick.

That part was fun. It was a pretty common thing for me apparently, because I wasn't freaked out by it and it didn't seem to freak out anyone else.

At my hotel, I went back into my room. The hotel was weird in that some parts were very posh and other were a bit creepy. I had checked out of the hotel to walk back to the conference center I had left before, but left my riding branch in the room. As I was I trying to find another, a group of guys walked by. They appeared to be a popular singing group staying at the hotel too and were complaining that one of their brothers (they were siblings) loved to try to fly with a tree branch.

I was not deterred as I had flown to the hotel. Not finding a good branch, I just started walking.

I stopped at an outdoor cafe near the center, where someone who worked there handed me a bunch of fliers, which include a photo of Patrick Stewart and also had a section about my book. He told me that these were like "comment cards" and fans had left me several.

I read through a bunch of handwritten comments, all seemed positive, but the only one I remember was:

"Turtles don't have nipples."

I saw a group of teens sitting at a picnic table among a row of them. A lady who worked there, a short, stout woman with a blonde pixie cut and glasses, went up to the table and politely told them there were too many congregating at one table and made them split up due to social distancing. Grumbling, the teenagers divided themselves among three tables together.

I guess my dreams are concerned about Corona too. And then I woke up.

Last night's dream was a doozy. I jotted down some notes as soon as I woke up so I could remember as much as I could.

I was living in a large, older building that had been divided into odd-sized lofts. Everyone was friendly and got along, but it was clear that there was something off about the building. Most of the time, I was present, but more like I was watching a movie.

There was a younger couple that seemed to be the target of the building's resident ghost, an older woman with frizzy hair named Margaret. I recall an encounter with Margaret and she had eyes without pupils, horribly permed hair, wore a sweatsuit, and screamed in a shrill voice.

Margaret seems to enjoy terrorizing the young couple, who reminded me of Mr. and Mrs. Kotter from "Welcome Back Kotter." We all had befriended an older lady who lived upstairs who reminded me of a short-haired, slightly pudgy hippie.

One "scene" in this dream had me cooking bacon and eggs for myself and friends on a stove-top griddle. I remember hearing the sizzle of the bacon and the pop of the eggs. I reached up in the cupboard for a plate and pulled down a soiled dish. I recoiled at the plate and couldn't wonder why someone put a dirty plate back in the cupboard. I looked through several others and made sure it was the only one.

When I looked on the griddle, I saw a plastic, gallon jug of water in the corner of the griddle. I was surprised that the griddle had not melted through the plastic, spilling the water and grease everywhere. This will make sense later.

Everyone seemed to know that Margaret was haunting the place. There were ghost-hunters and psychics who would come to the building to "investigate" it. At times, they would run from the building after Margaret would hauntingly screech "FAKE!! FAKE!!" at them.

The older lady and the younger lady were having a conversation with me in the older lady's apartment. She stated that one day she had a talk with Margaret, who had said to her that if there was a grease fire and she died trying to put it out with water, would they be together forever? This freaked me out when I remembered the water jug on the greasy griddle.

The older lady said that she had a dream of Margaret with her back to her. As Margaret turned around, she was cradling a fire extinguisher like a child. This is the point where I woke up. I did a quick scribble of Margaret and her extinguisher so everyone would have an idea of what I remember.

I've been in a bit of a recovery mode this weekend. Traveling wears me out. I slept a LOT, but did manage to hit the gym.

After my nap today, I elected to stay in and just snack around for dinner. With Valentine's Day looming this week, I was thinking about Bitchie Ann McSourpuss, my Goth-spinster alter-ego, and what freakish adventure she would encounter this year. I wondered, as desperate as she can be, what kind of guy would be so loathsome that she wouldn't... couldn't.. go out with. And then it came to me:



Happy Anti-Valentine's Day :)

I don't have a set date for the anniversary of my coming out. As I have posted before, I came out to myself when I turned 30 years old and started the process of coming out to others very soon after. I have never regretted it for a moment.


Yes, I have this many colors of these shirts...

A couple of weeks ago, I was having a conversation with a co-worker about visiting family for the holidays. I don't recall exactly how, but the discussion came around to him asking me if my parents ever tried to "correct" any obvious gay traits (OGTs) that they may have seen in me.

Being non-athletic and a tad histrionic, I was often labeled as a sissy by other kids, including cousins and even siblings. I know my dad often shut me down whenever things got a bit over the top. I remember that he bought me and my siblings glossy tee-shirts, the kind you saw in the 1970s where a thick, photographic transfer was on the front. My sister had something girly, with a horse on it or a kitten (I think). My brother had the "General Lee" car from "The Dukes of Hazzard." Mine was "Daisy Duke" from the same show, played by Barbara Bach, sitting seductively on her jeep. I tried to find a photo of it online and I couldn't. While I would enjoy the shirt for its kitschy nature now, at the time I was unimpressed with it. Looking back, I see it for what it was, something with a hot girl on the front that I could be seen in by others.

When we would watch the show, there was a scene in the opening credits with Barbara Bach in a red bikini. If I hooted and hollered at it, my dad would laugh proudly. It was all for his benefit and in a house full of kids, I got dad's attention for a few seconds, so it became a weekly event.

My dad signed me and the twin up for football in 3rd grade without asking, that I recall. If he did, it was probably phrased "Do you guys want to go play football? It'll be fun!" without telling us exactly what was involved. I just remember being taken to a locker room one day and fitted with ill-fitting pads and pants, saddled with a helmet too small, and then dragged to a field for my first practice. It wasn't fun. I hated it. When I quit after two weeks, my dad was disappointed in me, giving me dirty stares and not speaking to me for a month after. At 8 years old, that was rough. Again, I'm sure it was done to try to butch me up, but luckily my mom said I didn't have to do it if I didn't want to.

On a side note, my sister took this same approach with her kid that Mom did. If my nephew didn't enjoy sports, he didn't have to play them. I often wonder if she doesn't remember my horrible foray into football as part of her decision-making process.

My folks always said I was the quiet child of their brood. The reason for that was that after being shut down so much for any dramatic behavior, I found being quiet got me less correction. Once my siblings and I hit our teen years, Mom and Dad had to give a lot more attention to my more rebellious twin and sis than me, so I was often left to do whatever I wanted.

Today, there is the movement for gender neutrality, no pushing boys toward boy-things or girls toward girl-things. Some (mostly conservative) folks hate it because it fights the comfortable norm they grew up with, while others love their kids no matter what and don't believe it's necessary to push them toward things they may not want.

So did my folks try to correct my behavior, yeah, but mostly my dad. I've heard and read horror stories of others' experience, so mine pale in comparison.

After getting the grocery shopping done and a couple of loads of laundry out of the way, I was debating on what to watch. I've been looking through a lot of my Christmas-themed horror flicks and decided to watch "Black Christmas" (1974) again.



There are so many things I love about this movie, but I'd say a great deal of it involves the setting - the early 1970's. As I'm watching the movie tonight, I decided to jot down some things that clearly identify the time setting of the movie.

• Smoking. Several characters smoke, which you don't see in movies very often anymore. In fact, a close eye sees ashtrays in offices and auditoriums.


• Posters. The decorations on the walls of the girls' rooms give away the time frame. Some of them are very cool and I would love to see them come back.


• Wallpaper. Like the posters, the wallpaper is very telling, very elaborate graphic patterns you would have seen on album covers of the period or the Electric Company.


• Rotary telephones. One of the big parts of the movie is the phone calls made to the sorority sisters from the killer. The sorority house only has telephones downstairs for the sisters, so people do have to "run" for the phone, unlike today where the phone is cordless and in your pocket. The rotary dials dates it even more, as there are now whole generations of people who have never made a phone call using them.


• Phone numbers. Probably the best gag in the whole movie is the use of a word to describe the exchange of a phone number. Barb (Margot Kidder) gives the phone number of the sorority house to a bumbling and naive desk sergeant as "Fellatio 2-0880," explaining to him that it's a new exchange "F-E" (This is actually a blooper in the movie as the number is later given/seen as a different number). Now I was born on the cusp of the exchanges no longer being described this way, so I never had to make a call giving one. An exchange, that is... not fellatio.


• Cars. They're boats essentially.


• The fashions. The clothes the ladies wear aren't as dated as they could look vintage today, but the hairstyles I think give the 70's away, including those on the guys. One white guy has an afro while another has hair that looks like a shag.

I was born in early 1973 so I don't recall the early 70's at all, but vaguely recall the later part of the decade mostly. If reincarnation is real, I often wonder if my past life was in this time frame, considering my admiration for the time period.

While I love the advantages of having all the technology we have today, and will have even more in the future, life certainly does seem a little simpler back then. Maybe that is also one of the appealing parts.

If anyone wants to watch the movie, it's posted, in full, on You Tube. The new remake comes out this Friday. I'm going to try my best to judge it on its own merits and not draw comparisons repeatedly to my favorite. I admit, I'm looking forward to it.

I got a phone call yesterday evening from the roofer I hired weeks ago. Due to a busy schedule and the weather, he had not been able to get to the new roof I wanted for my house. The old roof is the same one that was there when I bought the house 18 years ago, and it wasn't new then. The roof had two layers of shingles on it and it was sturdy. It never leaked, but I knew it's days were likely numbered.

The roofer was able to squeeze in my new roof today. He said it would only take about 8 hours and it was done by the time I got home from work. The color turned out a bit darker than I had remembered, but I like how it looks on the house.

And from what I saw on the weather channel, it looks like the roof will get tested tomorrow with the rain coming.

Then, the payment invoice will show up and THAT is going to be the painful part of it. Sigh...

Work has been brutal of late, or at least it has felt that way because I've not taken a lot of time off. I'm not overwhelmed, but I think I'm suffering from a bit of burnout. My fuse has been short and growing shorter.

Last week, I remembered that drag queen comedic superstar Bianca Del Rio was going to be in Columbus, OH with her "It's Jester Joke" comedy show. I knew this was going to be the closest the tour was coming to my location, so I hopped online and bought a ticket. I was amazed that I managed to get a FRONT ROW ticket. I had also debated on staying the night to avoid driving home late at night, and I eventually booked a room at a nearby Marriott to the venue.

I ran into some Cincinnati and Dayton bear friends of mine outside, but none of them had seats in the front row. So I was sitting solo and the seats around me were unsold, or the ticket holders did not come. The show was WONDERFUL!

RuPaul's Drag Race Season 7 Alumna Mrs. Kasha Davis opened the show. I think she has a fantastic sense of humor and I loved hearing her sing. She saw me sitting solo and asked where my friends were. I shrugged. She told me that SHE would be my friend and she liked my beard. She asked if it tickled testicles or vaginas. I told her "testicles" and she announced me as a gay and I got a round of applause. I was in heaven.


My new friend Mrs. Kasha Davis

After the warm-up, Bianca came out and did an amazing 90 minutes. She never stops moving. I took probably two dozen or more photos and only a few had no blurs. Her humor was bawdy, irreverent, and non-PC. She explained to the masses that it was going to be that way. I can't imagine why anyone would go to Bianca's show if they didn't know her humor. I absolutely loved it and was howling with laughter many times. I can't wait to see what she does next.


Bianca Del Rio! Yes I was this close!
I made my way back to the hotel and crashed almost immediately. I did make the mistake of opening one of the apps and getting so much "fresh meat" messages. Nice guys, but I didn't have time or energy to hook up with anyone. It must be my age these days.

The next morning, I woke up, got ready, checked out, and drove down to The Book Loft, a 32-room bookstore in the German Village part of Columbus. It's co-owned by a brawny bear friend of mine and I'd not visited there in a long time. I wasn't disappointed. I spent WAY too much money there, but they have so much good stuff there. Seriously, you can wander that book store for hours upon hours and still never really see all of it.

I finally headed for home, enjoying my day off from the office and still basking in the aftermath of the comedy show. I spent a lot of money in the last two days, but the break from the work was certainly worth every penny.

My big plans for the weekend involved a trip to this year's Cincinnati Comic Expo. The downtown area had three specific groups converging -- the Comic Expo group, the Oktoberfest group, and the Reds game group. And it was kind of obvious who was who based on how they were dressed.

I don't always make it to the expo, but I do love going. There are usually a lot of comic book vendors, people selling posters and tee-shirts, and comic artists and writers to meet, along with the celebrities there for autographs and photos.

People go for different reasons. Some folks go to meet the celebrities, get an autograph and picture. This is not really my thing as the cost is high and I do not like to meet a celebrity in case he or she is a jerk. If I admire his or her work, it will color my opinion of it if the meeting is negative.

So I typically go to shop and people watch. The cosplay is fun to see. I only saw five "Harley Quinns" yesterday, which was a record low in my opinion. There were a lot of Doctor Stranges roaming about. And there is a lot of nerdish bears roaming about of various sizes, which is even better.

I ran into _decibel_ and kybigstew and roamed the place with them for a few hours. I got a pretty good haul of 1970s comic books, including a couple of giant-sized books, like "Superman versus Spider-Man." I also got a huge poster of Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman.

After several hours of walking around and spending quite a bit of money, I got tired and decided I'd had enough. As I was walking to Fountain Square to get my car, I heard the familiar echo of bullhorn street-corner preaching. Feeling silly, I started bellowing out how people needed to heed the voice of the "Flying Spaghetti Monster," getting chuckles from a few Expo folks walking beside me. I completely ignored the preacher man and his two sign-holders as I walked past.

It was a fun afternoon. I'm happy I went, so I hope to go again next year.

It's been a while since I've had some really vivid dreams, but I had a double last night.

• The first dream had me inheriting this huge mansion and company from a millionaire. I don't recall the exact details, but I was touring the house that seemed to have endless rooms. Each one seemed like time capsules of sorts. The one room that stood out was a comic book room full of comic books, posters, and artwork from the 1980s, including a spinner rack full of the comics from my youth. These were not originally mine, but they were now, so I was thrilled to find such a treasure trove. The rooms seemed to inter-connect in different ways, like secret doors that led to another room in addition to their regular doors. Strangely, the people who originally had lived in the house, but they were not upset that I was taking over their possessions, so I could not figure that part out.



• The second dream had me working for or with my sister at a magazine. I was either writing articles or researching articles for the company. I was given two immediate assignments. The first I've already forgotten and the second was to develop a beard style to make a guy whose beard didn't connect to his hairline at the ears look "cool." I have no idea how I was going to make that happen, but I that was what I was told to do....

... and then Milo woke me up by head-butting my chin, wanting me to feed him.

Well, here I am, after one more trip around the Sun, at the ripening age of 46.


Mark at 46

I wish I had more to relate for a birthday. Being Saturday, I was off work, despite the government shutdown. I didn't do anything particularly exciting. I went for a run, had lunch at Friday's, took a nap, ate dinner, watched movie, etc. My phone has been buzzing almost all day with messages from Facebook and instant messenger. Because it's Saturday, I didn't do my usual birthday activities, like paying my car property taxes.

It's not that I dislike birthdays, I'm almost ambivalent toward them and have reasonably low expectations. Usually I post some story about it, but I really lack something to talk about, which was a similar statement from last year's post. I admit that the furlough from the government shutdown has probably cast a pallor over my birthday in some respect.

Here's to 2019, I guess. We'll see what this year has to offer.