While waiting for our outstanding Hummer tour of Sedona to start, Randy and I sat on a bench at the strip mall to enjoy a bit of shade. As Randy posted on the Facebook:
So this just happened…
Charles Hartley and I sitting together on a bench in the shade>
Dude: “You guys got it right! Let your wives shop while you guys sit and relax!”
Us: ……<stunned silence>
I was this close to saying something.
A few minutes later, we walked over to our waiting Hummer. It turns out we were the only two passengers on this evening’s tour. I introduced us to the tour guide using the super secret codewords from the Gay Agenda, 2008 edition: “This is my husband, Randy.” Doug (tour guide extraordinaire) responded, admittedly unexpectedly, by asking how long we’d been together, then offering that he’d been with his own partner for over thirty years but just gotten legally married a year ago.
Arizona tried to live down to my stereotypes, but then in a quick flash proved me completely wrong and just as guilty of bad assumptions as the redneck who doesn’t like shopping with his wife. Loving Sedona.
Randy on Vacation
Happy New Year!
We had a great time at the Penguin Plunge, and I made this today from the GoPro footage we shot there. Even if you don’t enjoy video of people having a good time starting 2015 at the beach, I really liked this arrangement of Auld Lang Syne, so just close your eyes and take it in. Happy New Year to all our friends.
Randy and I went to La Jolla Cove this afternoon to shoot his annual welcome back video for this year’s class. Normally I wouldn’t bother posting those here, but we got so many great shots with the seal and fish that I had to share it here. The
seal sea lion in particular just parked in front of me at a distance of 4-6 feet for nearly two minutes. I may recut the footage without the welcome back bits later, but for now, just sharing some work that I’m proud of and you might enjoy.
June is celebration month.
Haven’t been here much. I’ve been elsewhere, celebrating Randy’s birthday, our fifth wedding anniversary, the end of the school year, and the Supreme Court rulings on Proposition 8 and DOMA. That last one is the big one: our marriage is finally a full-size federally recognized marriage. I was seriously thinking of getting that slogan turned into a logo for a tramp-stamp tattoo between martinis on Wednesday. It would’ve been something along the lines of a FDA Prime Beef sticker, but more obnoxious. Alas, it didn’t come to pass. Another opportunity missed.
In case you missed it though, here’s another sunrise you probably slept through, this time at Santa Cruz.
Back in San Diego after six days and five nights in California’s Central Coast.
Lots of beach time. Some serious kayaking in Morro Bay. Some very serious eating in San Luis Obispo. Even some ridiculously over-the-top shopping, including a Jake Early seriograph for the living room.
Want proof? Photos are slowly getting posted over in the gallery.
No Spa Day
Randy’s texting me his impressions on today’s mineral water spa treatment in Boston.
Diego would be texting me from his spa if he had thumbs, gloating about how much prettier he feels when he gets his dew claws done.
I’m just hanging out ripping out the old caulking from the master bath. Right now I’m think about what that’s done to my hands (paint thinner? you’re soaking in it dear), but I wasn’t when I started typing this post.
Doing The Happy Dance
Maybe I’ve been neglectful of y’all, truth be told I’ve been having a great time and was just a tad busy to drop back by. I tried to do a ComicCon post, but I think I’ll let the photos and their captions tell the story for me. We had a great time and the photos prove it.
Since then there’s been lots of work. And a new living room set, with photos forthcoming once the lamps arrive and the new print gets back from the framer. And Randy starts school again next week, which has left me crashing on the website his kids use for homework and collaborative projects (their very own little child-safe wiki), bringing it up to spec from last year’s feedback and expanding into a few new areas.
Then today a very nice federal judge all the way up in San Francisco said some very nice things. Lots of them actually, written down on 138 pages. Hopefully that will lead to us being able to attend more fabulous gay weddings at some point in the future. Everyone should have the right to be a Party B.
So yes, even though Randy’s up at UCLA for the week, Diego and I are doing the happy dance tonight. We’re having a good life.
Saw in the server stats this morning that this photo of Randy and the wonderful John Barrowman is now the ninth most viewed photo in the local gallery here at Howling Point. Out of 1367 posted photos, this is the first non-sports photo to crack the Top 10.
Randy met the actor who played Captain Jack Harkness (not to mention “Lead Tenor” in The Producers) at the 2009 Comic-Con. I stood several feet away with the camera and tried not to be too jealous. Hopefully they can rekindle their relationship at Comic-Con this year, which by the way starts in only 27 short days.
Catching Up On The Lost Week
One week ago today, thirty or so very good friends and family gathered at The Linkery in San Diego to celebrate Randy’s 50th birthday. The people at The Linkery outdid themselves with great service and great food, and while the Big Five-Oh is easy to poke fun at (and there was a ceremonial presentation of Spinner’s first AARP card), the rapidly-marching-to-death jokes were kept to a minimum, and as far as I could tell a great time was had by all.
Very early the next morning we left Diego and the Great Basil Forest in the care of a wonderful housesitter, and set off for Hawai’i.
In hindsight we’d redo the itinerary. It seems ridiculous in hindsight to fly 21 minutes from San Diego to LAX, then sit on some very uncomfortable seats at LAX draining the batteries on various portable devices for three hours until our flight to Kona. We could’ve driven to LAX in less than two hours, and still left home at least 90 minutes later than we did. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… As for Delta – I know it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything but a hop from here to the Bay Area, but $25 to check a bag and no food except a bag of peanuts on a five-hour flight? Ohmygawd you’re cheap bastards and you’ll get no linkey-love here.
Once we got off the flying metal deathtrap though, life was renewed. I suppose for Randy it was like how Logan’s spin through carousel should’ve been. Hours of people reminding you of approaching mortality, more hours trapped immobilized in a sealed metal tube, then whoosh…PARADISE!
In our first two hours on the Big Island we swam in the ocean, swam in the resort’s pool, then had mango daquiris and kalua pork quesadillas at the hotel’s poolside bar.
Yes, I got injured a couple of times, but it was all still absolutely worth it. I got stung by a jellyfish or something, but I got stung swimming the water portion of the Ironman course in Kona. I beat up my ankles on some silly rocks, but I did it body surfing at Magic Sands on the Big Island. I suppose I should mention the dead brain cells from several rounds of Mai Tais too, but that doesn’t sound nearly as butch as the swimming and bodysurfing. Would it help if I said they were flaming Mai Tais?
We visited palaces and churches and archeological sites and generally behaved like gawking tourists we were. Spent lots of time sitting on the seawall just watching local life: the triathletes and open-water swimmers, the locals playing, the outrigger canoe clubs, the birds and crabs doing their things.
We had a great time. The vacation was way too short. Probably wouldn’t have come back but for the grim realities of modern life spelled out by Quicken, even given my responsibilities to appear in court this Tuesday.
The flight home was relatively uneventful: same tin-can of death, same lousy service, still no love for Delta. Diego not only survived, but seemed much better after five days with the housesitter than he’s ever seemed after any time at all in the kennel. The Great Basil Forest is thriving. After 36 hours the mountain of laundry finally seems surmountable. I’m back and I accept it, happy or not.