Month: September 2007

Not long after my last post, in which I exposed my bourgeoisie need for a purebred puppy, I received this very polite email from a member of PETA:

Hi there,

I just wanted to let you know about folk singer Melissa Ferrick’s brand-new ad for PETA, which encourages her fans to adopt animals from a shelter instead of buying from a pet store or a breeder. You can see the ad at http://www.helpinganimals.com/f-melissa-ferrick.asp?c=hamlsfrkblgptc, and there’s some more info below:

Speaking out on important issues is nothing new for singer-songwriter Melissa Ferrick, who is openly gay and talks about it in her songs. She burst onto the national scene after she was booked to open for longtime PETA pal Morrissey in the early ’90s, and she later started her own label, Right On Records. Ferrick—who donated the cover of her 2006 release, In the Eyes of Strangers, to PETA for the group to use in its “Don’t Buy While Animals Die” campaign—is currently gearing up for a fall tour with folk icon Ani Difranco.

“Nearly 4 million dogs and cats must be put to death every year in U.S. shelters,” reads Ferrick’s ad. “Be a lifesaver—always spay or neuter, and never buy from breeders or pet stores.”

Having worked for several years at an animal shelter, I was horrified to be the target of a (very polite) PETA attack. But then I re-read the email, and realized that I have absolutely no idea who folk singer Melissa Ferrick is, much less am I a fan. So I’m off the hook, and can continue down my self-indulgent path of purebred pleasure.

A few days later, The Concerned Women for America released a press statement targeting a recent poster for San Francisco’s Folsom Street Fair, a poster that pays homage to The Last Supper:

“The most unimaginable and vile acts of debauchery are commonplace during the fair. Senator Larry Craig was arrested and driven out of the Senate for allegedly soliciting public ‘gay’ sex, yet during this event the city of San Francisco suspends the law and allows ‘gay’ men and women to parade the streets fully nude, many having sex – even group orgies – in broad daylight, while taxpayer funded police officers look on and do absolutely nothing.”

“The mainstream media should cover this event with cameras in hand. There’s an unbelievable news story here. The Folsom Street Fair is reminiscent of Biblical Sodom and Gomorrah, and the media should document exactly what the city of San Francisco is allowing to occur – in public – in the name of ‘tolerance.’”

Personally I think that they have a good point; come on down, with cameras in hand, and bring back memories for the kids back home, memories that they will cherish for years to come, memories that might lead young Billy and Jessica to visit Sodom and Gomorrah when they get a little older and find their hometowns a bit confining.

But then I am biased, and when you look at the Folsom Street Fair poster itself, you can see why:

My boyfriend and I: united as political targets. I’m so proud I could cry.

Since we last spoke, I:

– Wrote a little more of my book, but not enough to please my conscience.

– Met some of the Manly Fireplug’s family on the Jersey Shore, watched his mother play the penny slot machines in Atlantic City, took a quick tour of Philly, and lost my wallet in a cab on my way out of New York City. On my way to the airport. As in, no ID for security. No claim ticket for my car in the Oakland airport’s long-term parking lot. No credit cards or cash. But I managed to make it home and thanks to an intrepid girl on the Upper West Side who climbed into the cab after me, I even got my wallet back.

– Considered the trip a total success when the Fireplug’s mother said to him, in reference to me, “What’s not to like?”

– Got Louie’s ashes delivered to me in a box.

– Bought my first-ever suit, so that I can look good for my little brother’s wedding next month. How I got to the age of 36 without ever owning a suit is beyond me, and probably not worth your time.

– Threw out all of my long-held beliefs about only adopting mutts from shelters, and started looking into getting a purebred puppy. A small one so that I can take him with me to more places. I am turning into the bourgeoisie gay man I used to ridicule. But fuck it, having dogsat in the past for a Norwich terrier, I want one of my own. Here is a pic of some random person’s Norwich puppy. Perhaps you can see the appeal.

– Started looking into the possibility of getting an outside office, as the whole working-from-home thing is proving to be more of a challenge than I imagined. Found an ideal place that I can afford, that is currently under construction.

– Realized that, while waiting for both a puppy and an office, I’ve made absolutely no progress on becoming a more patient human being.

– Traveled with the Fireplug to a gay resort near Saugatuck, Michigan, for “INFERNO,” a SM retreat hosted by the Chicago Hellfire Club. Came back with a couple bruises and the sounds of whips and flogs and paddles hitting bare flesh still echoing in my ears. Not to mention a few sights burned into my retinas for all time.

-Bought my first piece of luggage-with-wheels. Between that and the suit, I am becoming a grown-up.

– Developed a taste, during our plane trips, for the New York Times crossword puzzle. Can barely make it though Monday without help.

– Made it an entire year with the Fireplug. Today’s our first anniversary. I love the guy.