"There are certain mistakes we enjoy so much we are always willing to repeat them."

It seems it is always the little things that trip us up, and by us I mean we, and by we I mean me, but since you’re on this website, I will presume to speak for you as well, with the notion that all of this stuff is universal. We shall see…

It’s been a bit of a burden lately in that I have been in a sort of limbo. Here’s the gist:

In the time I have been home "working on the novel," I have changed to a great degree. I do not see the world in the same way. I am calmer. I am more at peace. I know myself better, or perhaps just fashioned myself into someone I am more inclined to want to know.

But the change has largely been internal. I am more "ready" to do other things, but I haven’t closed the loop and started "doing" them (in some areas, such as travel, this is entirely financial; but many things are not a result of my reduced income).

In my interactions with family, some friends, and former co-workers, there is always feedback as to my identity. Perceptions as to how I will react to things because of who I am.

And I think the problem is that I only changed halfway.

As is my oft-repeated pattern, I changed my past without doing something entirely new in its place. So, there is no new information for people to go on, to make new mental connections, change their minds, etc.

For instance, at Macromedia, I make my job the obstacle that was preventing me from working on my novel, which led to resentment, and then poisoned the well as far as anything to do with Macromedia or my job. So, when former co-workers hear I am now applying for work in PR again, all they have to go on is who I was at Macromedia and, given most of my interaction with many of them is still at "Macromedia team reunion" functions, there is really no window by which they can see that I am no longer that person. I actually look forward to re-entering the workforce now, because I see it as providing me with the means to accomplish a lot of things in my life (such as travel, get a bigger apartment, enable me to write a novel without financial ROI requirements) and in my career.

Family and some friends still see me as the person who needs to see every play, concert, and movie. Compared to three years ago, I would guess that my concert/theater intake has been reduced by half ( at least). That said, it still surpasses most people’s. The last movie my family back home saw was the movie I saw with them in early July. I will always see more than them. They don’t see any concerts, pretty much. So, again, I will always seem like I’m going to more shows. I can easily name ten upcoming shows right now that I am NOT seeing that I would have previously (Red Hot Chili Peppers, Placebo, The Fray, Paul Simon, Tom Petty, etc., etc.). But again, they heard movies and concerts before, and they hear it now, so… without providing an alternative, makes sense.

Some friends have mentioned they can’t keep up with the amount of shows I see, etc., but that is often the friends who live out of town (Peninsula, Marin), whereby we don’t tend to just "hang out" ever, so… inviting them to a show or event of some kind is basically the language of our friendship. It’s not unusual for me to ask if someone wants to see a specific standup comic or something, and if they say no, I don’t go either. And back when I DID see a lot more things, that was how I did interact with people. I invited them to things, they most often declined, and that was the end of it. But again, I’ve done nothing to change the dynamics of these friendships, so they continue on this path.

So, I think this all started as inquiry into why I kept getting feedback based on personality traits and characteristics that I feel have changed and, as per usual, the answer is… if I don’t embody this change, it will never exist for a lot of people.

And, sometimes, our well-worn scripts are a source of familiarity, which is often comforting even when they need some editing. One thing that is always strange is when I visit family. Living alone, I rarely go all out as far as cooking for myself (based on my standards, that is; compared to most people, I am well over the top). So, when I have a handful of people to cook for, I enjoy the opportunity to make new food across several courses for them, and really get a kick out of preparing elaborate meals that are well-presented.

Diet is a constant topic around me, since I’m vegan and, well, most people aren’t. When I go all out cooking, the food is always vegan (I’m even pretty strict about no one adding even a shake of parmesan to my stuff, etc.). And it is always well-received, but the script that always comes up is that someone will invariably say, "This is great food, but I could never put this much effort into a meal every day." My veganism and my spending a lot of time preparing a special meal (well over the top of anything I would ever do for myself, let alone on a regular basis) are always linked. I’ve given up correcting them, and even hear them say it’s good food, but it takes a lot of work (unlike today, where I had a quick garden salad and microwaved baked potato with salsa for lunch: total time, 4 minutes).

So, it seems like I need to see what scripts in my life I like (few), which ones need updating (most), and start doing it. I don’t want to do this just so people have the "proper" perception because, well, people always have the perception you help them to reinforce or do nothing to change.

So, one of the literary awards that I use as a good metric is the Man Booker Award for Fiction. Every book I have read that won this award has been great. I am even subscribed to the website for the award and get e-mails as to the finalists, winners, etc.

I just got the "longlist" from which the winner will be selected and… well, it just seems wrong that I know so few of these books. In fact, I’ve read none and only heard of one (Black Swan Green by David Mitchell). Makes me wonder how well I know the world of fiction, if these are some of the best offerings and I’m all, "Huh?"

Of course, my main thing lately has been reading my sizable backlog here, filling in the gaps on some of my favorite authors, and working toward my Nabokov MFA, but again, that doesn’t excuse not having "heard" of these things… a Sunday subscription to the New York Times may be in order, just so I stay better abreast of things. We’ll see…

For those of you playing along at home, here is the shortlist of nominees for the 2006 Man Booker Prize for Fiction:

• Carey, Peter Theft: A Love Story (Faber & Faber)
• Desai, Kiran The Inheritance of Loss (Hamish Hamilton)
• Edric, Robert Gathering the Water (Doubleday)
• Gordimer, Nadine Get a Life (Bloomsbury)
• Grenville, Kate The Secret River (Canongate)
• Hyland, M.J. Carry Me Down (Canongate)
• Jacobson, Howard Kalooki Nights (Jonathan Cape)
• Lasdun, James Seven Lies (Jonathan Cape)
• Lawson, Mary The Other Side of the Bridge (Chatto & Windus)
• McGregor, Jon So Many Ways to Begin (Bloomsbury)
• Matar, Hisham In the Country of Men (Viking)
• Messud, Claire The Emperor’s Children (Picador)
• Mitchell, David Black Swan Green (Sceptre)
• Murr, Naeem The Perfect Man (William Heinemann)
• O’Hagan, Andrew Be Near Me (Faber & Faber)
• Robertson, James The Testament of Gideon Mack (Hamish Hamilton)
• St Aubyn, Edward Mother’s Milk (Picador)
• Unsworth, Barry The Ruby in her Navel (Hamish Hamilton)
• Waters, Sarah The Night Watch (Virago)

There’s just something about musicals that I love, and I trace that back to seeing Grease in the movies when I was 10 (which I think I saw in the theater upwards of 50 times! I think I can still do the dialogue flawlessy along with the DVD, and posibly 100% accurately without it, too), but when the whole possibility of live theatre and Broadway musicals really clicked for me was when I saw A Chorus Line on Broadway toward the end of its initial, very-long run on Broadway.

After 6,137 performance spanning 15 years, the show defined a Broadway phenomenon and only Rent gives me a similar energy as far as it leaving you inspired, questioning your own life, while your head is filled with songs you want to treasure throughout your life.

I saw A Chorus Line on Broadway maybe two times toward the very end of its run, so I would have been around 21 or 22, right before I came out at 23, so like many other gays the show had a huge effect on me in a way that younger kids used RENT later in the 90s. It showed me possibility, that things would be OK…

I think it is one of the shows that defined my artistic sensibility and continues to inform it. Without rotating stages, falling chandeliers, huge helicopters descending from the ceiling, it builds its case through pure naked emotion. Just 17 dancers on a bare stage auditioning to be in the chorus for a new musical, telling the stories of their lives that led them to that moment.

In his one-man show "The Night Larry Kramer Kissed Me," David Drake talks about seeing A Chorus Line on his sixteenth birthday, with a boy he has a crush on, a boy he wasn’t out to… he had known all the songs in advance from the album, but not the stories in-between, and let’s just let David ’s story speak for itself, despite it requiring you to scroll, with his original spacing:

The album that gave me no warning that one story
would appear,
told on the stage
all alone
that was not my story

but was my story.

Out of the mouth
of that Puerto Rican, dancer-boy "Paul"
telling the story
of a boy
who loves boys
A story that seeped
into my childhood sleep at 7,
8,
9,
10,
11,
12,
13,
14,
15,
now 16,

hiding my swollen eyes from him,
Tim,
at my side
driving
silently
through the night
on the highway.

Driving home
to be alone
with the embarassment of this exposing moment;
displayed on my tear-smeared, red-blushed face.
Displayed
     in front of him.
     Tim.

Ignition clicked off.
Engine stopped.
Parked in the driveway–
     watching the flourescent blue television glow
     silently explode
     through the living room’s lace-curtained
     bay window.
"I gotta go," I said.
"No, wait," he said. "You’d better wipe your face,"
     as he gave me the white handkerchief
     from his blue blazer pocket.

"Thank you, Tim."

"So, I guess you know…
that Puerto Rican boy in the show
is like me.
I’m like that."

"I know," he said. "And I like that,"
     as he reached across the bucket seats
     taking a hold of my tear-smeared cheeks
     to gently place upon my 16-year-old lips
     one singularly sensational "ooh, sigh" kiss.

I saw the show with my grandmother, so not the same moment, but still marking a specific moment of my life forever. Shortly after that time, I came out, and saw my first "gay play" in the Village, Larry Kramer’s "The Destiny of Me," with John Cameron Mitchell as one of the leads (Anthony Rapp would later take this role on when John left). All of these events are one huge moment for me, and I don’t think it is coincidental that I’ve since met and e-mailed with Larry Kramer, become friends with David Drake and Anthony Rapp, and met John Cameron Mitchell on a few occassions. There are no coincidences.

So, all of this is leading up to A Chorus Line now playing in San Francisco in advance of its return to Broadway in late September. At first, I was hoping for the possibility of half-price tickets, because I’m avoiding $100 tickets right now being unemployed, but tracking how well it is selling online, combined with the short run and the great reviews, and I realize it is not going to happen. So, I break down and decide to pay full-price with birthday money, but decide to wait for a killer seat if I’m going to do it. The day after I decide to go, the day after my birthday, I get orchestra, Row E, dead center…

Just knowing I’m seeing A Chorus Line that night kills any work on my novel for the day, nothing able to permeate the "Chorus Line!!!" mantra that repeats and repeats in my head. I skip the gym, too, since the gym combined with its hydration rituals tends to get me on an hourly bathroom schedule for the day, and Chorus Line is two hours and no intermission, so I must remain bladder-conscious all day. I’m not missing a second of this show. (I do recognize this is all over-the-top, but it is all true, so…).

The lights dim, and I get goosebumps. Silhouettes walk onto the stage. The piano kicks in, and it is immediately like seeing an old friend. Then with a "Let’s do the whole combination, facing away from the mirror… and 5, 6, 7, 8!" the music kicks in full-force, the cast faces the audience, and "I Hope I Get It!" begins. Every cell in my body charges up, eyes widen, and I drink in every second, every movement, every word, every note.

I quickly find "Paul" on the stage, because from the posters I know which costume he’ll be in from where he stands on line (told you, I know the show too well), not to mention, I had already exchanged an e-mail with Jason Tam, the actor playing him, before even seeing the show, so I know what he looks like.

Paul tags the initial song with some of the lines that have always come up in my life, usually sung out loud, possibly more relevant now than ever before: "Who am I anyway? Am I my resume? That is a picture of a person I don’t know." Trying to leave corporate America to write a novel? Losing 100+ pounds? body image issue? Take your pick, maybe just add a "D) All of the above" and call it even?

I’m not going to give a song-by-song review, but there wasn’t a flawed moment in the entire show.

Jason/"Paul" provides one of the most heartbreaking moments in the show, and does it alone, with just words and his body, on a naked stage. It’s good to know that with the Disneyfication of Broadway, huge set pieces, and celebrity-led shows, there are still moments when a roomful of people who shell out $100 a piece are looking at nothing but great acting with no artifice and getting a complete beautiful experience.

It also made me wonder what it must be like to be a 24-year-old actor like Jason and knowing there is nothing to hide behind and having to open yourself up like that every night. But there was no need to worry about that. He owned the stage, and kept everyone silent and transfixed as he told the most beautiful, heartfelt story of the evening.

I chatted with Jason Tam after the show (shock.), about how he started years ago as little Gavroche in les Miz, and this is his first adult role that he’s opening on Broadway. I also warned him that there will probably be a lot of gay men telling him their "Paul" stories, as it was a role that meant a great deal to an entire generation of people. I’m probably one of the youngest people in that group. Jason came across as a great, open spirit, and is perfectly ready to own the stage in NYC. I may have to see him again over Christmas…

I’ve taken some hits on this site before when I’ve said I gravitate to art that makes me see myself in a new way, or to question myself as a result (as opposed to seeing a show about women in India having to fight for whatever). I call it "mirror" versus "window," and I’m still there.

Aside from the personal connection to the show, it does show me how lucky I am to be writing a novel. That is something I don’t think about enough. Look at the dancers in A Chorus Line, or even actors like Jason Tam, or Anthony Rapp, or David Drake, or any actors I know… they basically have to build up all of this acting experience, dance experience, singing experience, and then have to wait for the perfect role at the perfect time, and so many factors to come together just to put all of their talent to its beautiful use. There were probably dozens (hundreds? thousands?) of people who auditioned to be in those roles last night, all waiting for the chance to take their skills and use them.

Comparatively, my art isn’t collaborative. I only have to sit here, fire up Word, and get it done. By that standard, I have it easy. And, I certainly welcome any perspective by which I can think of my novel as easy.

—

If you’re in San Francisco, don’t hesitate to see A Chorus Line. If you’re in New York, or visit there regularly, get your Chorus Line tickets now. And, break a leg Jason! But you don’t need any help at this point, your star is ready to shine…

So… today is my birthday. 38 years old. Not really dreading it, loving it, hating it… it’s just sort of Wednesday, really.

I went back and read last year’s birthday entry (more like manifesto), and that’s not the place I’m in today (wanting to write that much, I mean). Some of the same issues exist, some don’t.

My focus lately has been on inspiration, which I think I wrote about recently. How giving up the ego to allow direct access to inspiration is the path, rather than be the slavedriver to motivation, which is just the ego pretending it is running the show.

Just listened to a Wayne Dyer CD, and the quote he had on this one was something like: "You will never find your light by examining the darkness."

I’ve always gone so long about saying I need a certain "place" in which I can be creative, involving sleep, times of day, an empty schedule, etc., etc., and all of that is exactly what is prescribed to have an active, spiritual experience on a regular basis, and I don’t think that is coincidental.

I’ve said before that I’m gravitating to thinking that we are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a human experience. So, a lot lately has been trying to nurture that more fully.

That is probably the big push for the next year.

Of course, all of my previous goals also fit in this new mode, too. The book is being worked on lately, but in a much less manic way, because I see my role as getting my ego out of the way and just enabling it to happen. Same with the body issues, same with the boy issues.

My only new insight was how so many people use alcohol, drugs, and such and it seems the goal is not to unwind or such, but I see this as a way to quiet the ego and get it out of the way temporarily. You don’t hit on hotter guys, have conscious-expanding experiences and such because you were on a chemical, but because the thing that normally keeps you reigned in, afraid, and unable to open yourself up to that energy is removed temporarily. But you can get there, and stay there, more often if you can give up the notion that the ego is right. not easy, but certainly worthwhile…

Something happened to me at the recent Pearl Jam shows… I really got into the band. I mean, I’ve seen them live on and off since Lollapalooza in 1992, and thought they always put on a show, but they were always sort of a band where I just sort of thought they played their singles and lot of "other" stuff, which albeit nice, never led me to the archive to learn more of the back catalog.

But this time, something clicked. I’ve probably listened to the "bootlegs" of the two shows I attended at least 4-5 times each, ripped their back catalog into iTunes, and am really reconnecting (actually, to be honest, in large part connecting for the first time) with a lot of their tunes.

The songs I can’t stop playing the most are "Do The Evolution," and "Present Tense." Present Tense is just poetry, beauty, and inspiration in a perfect package. I can’t imagine I ever played it and gave it an adequate listen, because it seems impossible for that song to not seep into your pores and make you want to breathe in life more fully.

Oh well, I’m just happy I finally found it now. It would make no sense to beat myself up over not knowing this beautiful song I’ve owned for years, when its own lyrics are:

you can spend your time alone, redigesting past regrets, oh
or you can come to terms and realize
you’re the only one who can’t forgive yourself, oh
makes much more sense to live in the present tense