HOSED...deception and destruction

When I was 14 years old, I stopped drinking sweetened carbonated beverages and switched to drinking only water and juice. I remember pulling into a convenience store with my family on a road trip and buying a bottle of water. At that time, the bottled water craze had not exploded into the plastic peddling monster that it is today.

My father made fun of me, saying that it was a rip off to buy bottled water.

"You know there's just some guy in the back with a hose filling up those bottles with water."

I rolled my eyes and unscrewed the cap to my bottle of Evian, which comes from a pristine French spring, thank you very much.

It is funny to read a headline years later about Coca-Cola selling tap water under the name Dasani and while Pepsi is selling tapwater under the name Aquafina.

An estimated 25% of bottled water is nothing more than tap water, sometimes filtered, sometimes not.

The environmental impact of the bottled water craze is a whole other can of worms. Once you get me started on this, I could keep going for days. I will share a few obvious points and direct you to an article for some more information, but I recommend you educate yourself and try to phase out your bottled water consumption as part of an environmentally concious lifestyle.

--Most bottled water is not recycled. It piles up in landfill
--Plastic production is dependent on oil, a non-renewable resource. Dependency on oil is not only disasterous to the environmet but is half the reason we are blowing up innocent women and children in Iraq.

Think of the children...the children.

hang on, maybe I have a picture
of a very sad feed the children style child I can use for this part.

phrase of the week

Photo by the luscious Carrie Thomas

Our phrase of the week here at the rant is...

"Stick a bow on it, and call it Sally."

Translation: It is done...finished...complete

Sunday

Sunday,
I rollerbladed over to the recording studio and did the final mix for the single version of Unplug + a bonus extended (Reach Out Mix).
I think You're all gonna love it. It's a little different than the stuff on Sirens of Brooklyn.

After the studio, I rollerbladed over to Mister Carpentier's to play the single for him, then hopped back onto my blades and traversed the Brooklyn Bridge, making my way to Union Square. Then I hopped on a train to Queens.

I spent the evening in Astoria working with the other Rob working on the music video, which btw is so close to being done that I can almost hear the cork popping on the bottle of champagne.

I can't wait to relese both of these little babies into the world.

Stardust! and other forms of anticipation

Only on rare occasions will you find me amongst the masses,seated in the dark, staring up at a movie theater screen. I love movies, but I probably average about 4 movies per year when it comes to actual theater viewing. Oddly though I average about 30 visits to the concession stand to buy movie theater popcorn.

Rarely do I get excited about a film coming to the "big screen," however this is one of those rare occasions.

I am thrilled to announce that the film adaptation of one of my favorite books of all time, Stardust will be coming to theaters on August 10th. Stardust is an enchanting novel written by the immensly talented Neil Gaiman.

Fans of Tori Amos may recall a certain Neil being mentioned in her songs, this is the very man. Stardust was written in one of Tori's houses with the condition that Neil make her a tree in the book. Look for the talking tree.

Tori wrote in her song Horses

"will you find me if Neil makes me a tree?"

Obviously Neil is close friends with Amos. I even saw him hanging out around her tour bus when I was chatting with Tori after her Boston show on the Strange Little Girls tour. By the way, I've never seen so much seafood be carried back to anyone's dressing room. Tori has a serious shellfish fetish. God bless her.

Check out the trailer for Stardust and go out and buy the book. It is magical as are many of Gaiman's works. If you digest stardust and find yourself wanting more, I also highly recommend checking out Neverwhere.


One other exciting date to put on your little calendar is August 13th.
Why might you ask is this day so special? Well, my friends, it is the season premier of Weeds, a show that has me hooked. Season 2 ended with quite a cliff hanger and boy am I ever excited to see what happens when the smoke clears. cough cough.

A very random note: Mary Kate Olsen of the Olsen twins will be joining the cast this season. I'm very excited to see what part the little anoerexic alien will be playing. Has she done any acting since full house? She is going to have to bring her A game, because Mary-Louise Parker and Elizabeth Perkins are nothing short of briliant.

Last but not least, I am scheduled to become an uncle at the end of August. My sister got herself knocked up and is planning on pushing a bun out of her oven just in time for banana season.



Stay tuned for more exciting developments. There are lots of things brewing...enjoy these snacks but don't spoil your apetite.

This morning I woke to the sound of something that could only be described as a fridge being thrown from a 7th story building into my living room. Apparently God is angry about something, because he/she was throwing lightning bolts very close to my apartment.

I dare not think of what I might have done to incite this anger as it might consume my thoughts to the point of madness, given my long history as a blasphemer and sinner.

George is my savior, I shall not want

On June 16th, My 29th birthday.
Tragedy struck my little musical world when
a cab driver peeled away with my guitar in the trunk of his car.

I went into a state of shock, something of a paralysis, really.
K and I spent days calling every lost and found, every cab company and anyone with any suggestions as to what we could do.

Unfortunately, my guitar, black swan has gone away, hopefully to a home where she will be loved and appreciated.

In an amazing turn of events, I have been given an extraordinary gift.
Hearing of my loss, a man by the name of George Lee bought me a new guitar.
I had a hard time accepting this gift at first, but after some convincing on George's part, I gave in. It amazes me how kind people can be, how giving.

I now have a beautiful new guitar very appropriately named George.
After a month of not being able to play I have been playing until my
fingers ache on a daily basis and it's the sweetest pain ever.

Thank You George. You have given me a second chance. I promise I will make beautiful music with your namesake.

Untitled jibberish(It's the bleach)

I am mopping my floor and eating potato chips,
listening to Patty Griffin, Flaming Red.

I am missing you.
I saw you at 3:30. It's 12:00.
In 3 hour is will be 12 and that is 12 too many.

How are you so full of beauty, full of energy, full of desire for me?
It amazes me.

I spent almost 2 hours in a guitar store today. It kind of felt like I was cheating on Black Swan, but then I met George and we started talking. We had a first date. We danced. We shared secrets. He is away on Sunday, but on Monday I am going to go visit him. Oh god, I gave him a name. Does that mean that he is the one?
I am about to dive head first into song.

I had to take a breath. It all became so frantic and I lost myself in the lack of sleep and the stress.
I lost sight of what I love. You believe in me. Thank you for that. It means the world to me.
I need to be brought to my knees from time to time, to understand how small I am.

I will feed you with the bit of food I have in my kitchen. I will give you my humble rags. They are what I have. I will give all that I can. I love you. Yes, I'm talking to you. Wake up. Unplug.

The Really Strong Hurricane...AKA Katrina

Sometimes the simplest things in life are the ones that bring us the most pleasure.
I enjoy a good fried shrimp Po' boy sandwich and there is a little place in Rehoboth Delaware that I always visit for their excellent Po' boys.

Marc, K and I all went to enjoy the pleasures of po' boy, but this time something on the menu struck me as really really really WRONG. There is an alcoholic drink called the hurricane and this restaurant decided to create a drink for their menu called the Katrina, a hurricane with more alcohol or as the menu promised something horrible like, will knock your socks off or drown your sorrows, something just wrong.

After the very excellent sandwhiches I decided to speak with the owner. I was very polite, telling her how much I enjoy her establishment and the delicious cuisine, but that I find a drink being called to Katrina to be really insensitive and inappropriate.

Her response was that I need to lighten up. I told her that in fact I don't need to lighten up and that she wouldn't name an entree the 9-11. People lost their lives in a horrible catastrophe and that the drink shouldn't be on her menu. She again told me that I need to lighten up and I decided to say goodbye or rather just walk out of her restaurant. (I did pay before doing so)

Call me crazy, but there are still people living in FEMA trailers, if you must have a tragic drink, I recommend something where the wounds have healed a bit, like the "Titanic-Iced latte" or the "Pearl harbor fried oysters."

a shift in the tide

something has shifted and everything is changing.
I fell down the rain soaked stairs to my apartment last night whilst wearing rubber shoes. i have bruises and soreness throughout my body. I am covered in bug bites on my legs from watching the sun set on turtle bridge.

I have scrapes on my arms and legs from climbing a tree to comfort a rather upset cat. i am in-fact a boy.
I watched hours of animal planet with K, because we are lame little nerd boys. I now have a love for wombats and want one for a pet. The closest thing I have is this picture that K made me. This morning I got a message from my mother letting me know that my uncle Louie has died. The funeral is in North Dakota on Monday. He was such a great man with a sweet heart. I hope he his smiling wherever he is.

Returning to the bossom of mother ocean

This evening I depart the city for a few days with K. and the lovely Mister Carpentier.
We are off to sun our buns in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.
I will return looking like a Lobster with seashells and stories to share, I'm sure. I usually spend the majority of my time swimming in the ocean.

Though, I plan to spend some time rubbing olive oil on K's fine greek body to watch him magically cook to a lovely edible golden brown.
Let's just hope I don't end up in an aloe vera tub at a burn ward.

Don't worry. I'm well aware that I am the whitest/pinkest boy alive.
I will be implementing the new full body sun condom, a part of my new line of clothing for people without pigment.

I'm thinking of calling it Robster's Lobster wear.

What do you think?

It's a Miracle. I can hear.

I'd like to take this moment to plug a product
that helped to unplug me.

I trudge through life with a long list of
deformities and shortcomings, one of which is
a curved ear canal that leads to a buildup of wax.

Eventually I start to go partially deaf and freak out,
leading to a doctor's visit involving a water pik and
a wax "gumball" shooting out of my ear.

I suddenly have superhero hearing and a restored sense of balance.

So, yesterday was my breaking point.
I decided to visit the pharmacy and try my
luck at some over-the-counter voodoo.

Let me just say that I found the magic for which I was looking.
Oh sweet mary has put her blessed kiss on
Murine for Ear Wax Removal drops.
I dislodged a wax ball the size of a small marble. TMI???
It's a miracle. I can hear.

Tonight in NYC

If You are in NYC

Out at the Center
June Edition
Thursday, June 28, 10pm
Time Warner 34 and 78 (digital), RCN 107 and
82 (digital) on Manhattan Neighborhood Network


A part of my performance from the May 19th Marriage Equality March
will be included in the broadcast. Check it out.

If you don't live in NYC,
the show will be available online
at www.gaycenter.org/out

ask your other dad

Photo by Carrie Thomas

On Saturday I got up earlier than god intended
to grab some coffee and walk K to the train.
He was heading into the city to volunteer
for the annual center kid's pride picnic.
As usual I found it hard to say goodbye to him
and found myself bedhead-and-all getting on the train with him.

My plan was to show up and see how adorable
he was working with the children and leave.
Of course that is not what happened. I ended up
with a nametag running a table putting temporary
tattoos on children of same sex couples while
K sat across from me doing face painting.

I observed a few things.
First off,gay daddies with their children are the cutest thing ever.
Second, I don't know where these children are coming from,
but they are almost all stunningly beautiful, happy and seemingly "normal" children.
I hate the word normal, but for the purpose of this it seems appropriate.

We have been led to believe for years by the christain right that
children raised by two mommies or two daddies are bound for
a life of such depraved deficiency that they'd be better off raised by a pack of rabid wolves.
This couldn't be further from the truth.
I saw children who are loved, clothed, fed and happy.

The highlight of this experience
was a child telling me that he asked his one daddy if he could have a tattoo
and his daddy said that he had to ask his other daddy and his other daddy said yes.

Check out this article all about the "unnatural" phenomenon of gay parenting.
It mentions black swan...well sorta. Sweet black swan, I hope you are being loved wherever you are.
I miss you.

You can see the storm came through here

Photo by Carrie Thomas

One of the best things that ever happened to me was when I lost everything.
Being stripped down to your core shows you who you are and what you are made of.
It also has a humbling effect.

I lost most of what seemed valuable to me shortly before I turned 25. I spent a year of my life swallowed up in pain and very lost. I played guitar on the street for change with a bandaged hand and had conversations with the homeless, ragged and forgotten souls of the city.

I turned to music to deal with my pain and loss and found that through writing songs I could heal myself.

I have turned to my guitar in the times when I am frustrated, elated, hurt and confused.

It has been a new sensation not having my guitar. I did not realize how attached I had grown to this instrument. I needed to express my loss and the thing that I would normally use to express my feelings was the thing I had lost.

I have been paralyzed for the last week. Slowly, I have been forcing myself to move.
Wiggle Your Big Toe
It feels like this is the end of a chapter. My ceiling is patched. The leak is fixed. I am in love with an amazing man. I'm not sure of what is next. It doesn't frighten me. It is just the way I would expect it to be. I have seen so much, been given so much and lost so much that I am smoothed over by the sand and the waves. I give myself over to the ebb and flow. I surrender.

Freaking out

I am freaking out.
I am totally freaking out.
enough with this calm zen bullshit.
enough with optimism and the it-will-be-ok attitude.
The most valuable thing in my life is gone and
I don't know if I will ever see her again.
I'm not Ok.

Ride on, Ride on

I haven't slept well for three days.

On the night of my birthday, the cab that was taking me back to Brooklyn pealed away with my guitar still in the trunk. With the help of K. we have called every cab company in the city. We've called every police precinct. We've filed reports and frantically paced.

I woke with a startle at 3:30 am and started scrubbing the tile in my shower, just trying to get rid of the nervous energy. I feel disoriented and foggy and unable to breathe or swallow.

I am worried about black swan. I feel sick to my stomach, to my head, to my crawling skin. I want to claw at the walls, claw at my ears, my face, my eyes. I want to curl into a ball and cry until there is no moisture left in my body.
I can't though. I can't get a single tear to come. I just feel empty and numb and disjointed.

I don't know what to do.


"Ride on, Ride on Friends of the black swan. Ride on Ride on. Do you know where she's gone?"- Tori Amos' Black Swan

A prayer for my black swan

Please bring her back to me,safely.
I need her.
I am sorry I ever took her for granted.

Amen

Introducing K to KB

Last night I decided to officially introduce K to Kate Bush. Everytime I see this video I am reminded that the line between brilliance and insanity is thin enough to evade the perception of a KKK member on rollerskates and send him flying. I guarantee you one thing, that rollerrink has never been the same.

I would love to hear your interpretations of this small piece of cinematic genius.

Petra, I feel you

Having a history of falling for men who were no good for me, I feel a special bond with a girl named Petra in Germany. Her story is both fascinating and tragic and not mine to tell. Sweet Petra, like bacon and famine You are in my thoughts daily.

Read her story

Twice Bloom

photo by Carrie Thomas

There is nothing like a flower that blooms twice in one night
its petals opening for the moon
The sweet smell of skin
again and again
each time hotter and wetter
better than
the cold and dry of yesterday at noon.

I say yes to you and never no.
You are like no other.
As far as flowers go, you are the sweetest
and the brightest.

There is no need for a sun in the sky.
It's harsh rays only say that day has come
and I must unwrap the vines that cling to my trellis.

Yes, you are a flower like no other.
I inhale your scent, spent from the intoxication.
Oh sweet lotus hold this heart with gentle care.
I give you water and air and everything that pulses.