Pen and Ink

Back up.

On Monday night, he went to sleep around 11 p.m. with no problem.

On Tuesday morning, I couldn't wake him up. I pressed every button possible.

Nothing. Flatline.

I'm talking about my MacBook, of course.

Naturally, as Murphy's Law would have it, I needed the laptop for a seminar on social networking I was taking Tuesday morning.  I brought Andy's MacBook with me, but the battery was shot.

Later that evening, I took my computer to the Apple Genius Desk.  Turns out the hard drive was dead. Finished. Kaput. Thankfully, the computer is still under warranty.

Whenever I walk into an Apple store, I am faced with many purchasing temptations.  One day last spring, I succumbed to a rather significant, yet impulsive, lure: the Apple Time Capsule.

While the purpose of Time Capsule is to back up the harddrive, the appeal for me was the ability to plug my LaserJet into the box, thereby making printing wireless. That, alone, was worth the $299 price tag.

Of course, I'm using it to back up my system. With Time Capsule, it backs up every hour.

Losing the hard drive was tramatic only in that I would be without my MacBook for a few days. But let me tell you, knowing that my system was backed up to the little white box sitting atop of the armoire in my guest room was, as the MasterCard commercials say, priceless.

I got the computer back last night and restoring the system has been easy. Of course I couldn't leave the Apple Store without picking up the latest update to the Mac OS X operating system.

So if you're not backing up your computer regularly, you're flirting with disaster.  And if you're using a Mac, invest in the Time Capsule. Worth every penny.

Knock out.

While being unabashedly gay, I am, from time-to-time, knocked out by a a beautiful woman.  It happened recently when I met our tour guide on Santorini in the Greek Isles. 

You may not be able to tell it from this picture, but this woman, probably late 30s or early 40s, was just gorgeous.  And a gracious tour guide as well.

Jealous.

Our friends Adrian & Joe went up to Boston this morning.  I'm insanely jealous, because this is a perfect time of year to be there.

Productivity.

Sometimes, owning a home really isn't worth the trip.

Over the weekend, we realized the air conditioning didn't seem to be working.  The temp in the house was 82, with barely cool air blowing through the vents. Investingating the compressor outside the house, we discovered there was cooler air blowing out into the atmosphere than into the house.

Then I turned on the gallery lighting that I have to illuminate my photography collection.  The lights by the front door didn't come on.  The front light, part of the same electrical box, worked just fine.  But no gallery lights.

This was particularly frustrating because I take pride in my home and the photography I have assembled. Someone new was coming to visit and I really wanted the house to stand out.

So I took a personal day today to deal with it all.

While the system problems are vexing, I have to say that I'm having the most productive day. Laundry is getting washed and folded (the latter is a major feat for me).  I'm reorganizing closets and finally packing up Christmas ornaments that my ex forgot when he moved.  Paperwork will get done this afternoon.

It was so tempting this morning to turn on the tv, but rational behavior prevailed.  To reward myself, perhaps a little visit to DQ is in order after my chiropractor appointment.

Antique holy grail.

Whenever I go into an antique store, I have one very specific thing on my mind.

The Franciscan Apples dishes, which I wrote about the other day, were never my quest. Frankly, I never even really considered collecting them.

What I have been after is a set of Anchor Hocking "Forest Green" deer glasses.

Anchor Hocking produced a wide collection of "Forest Green" glassware in the late 1950s to mid 1960s.  My grandmother had a set of these glasses, another memory of my childhood. Upon her passing, they went to my father.  But glasses, being what they are, break in time.  There's only one left.  It too, broke, but was glued back together. Today's is just sentimental reminder of the past.

So anytime I go into an antique store, my eyes search for just one thing. 

My sister actually found a set a few years ago. But she wasn't sure if I'd want them, so she passed.  Silly girl.  Of course, when she went back, they were gone.

So while antiquing with my friend recently, I kept looking for green.

In the second store we entered, I found a cabinet filled with the stuff.  Eureka!

But alas, there were no reindeer in sight.  They had lots of glasses from the Square Dancing series, and even one from the Gay Nineties (Christmas) collection.

I inquired with the proprietor. He told me later that his heart sank when I mentioned them, because they had, in fact, had them recently.  But of course, they sold.  He even went into his stockroom to look, but to no avail.

So close!  As a consolation, though, I bought the lone Christmas glass.

The other night, however, Kathy popped up on Facebook.

"I found the reindeer glasses on eBay," she wrote.

Having never been on eBay, I quickly registered and searched for the glasses.

And there they were.  A set of four for just $8.  I quickly made a bid and am now waiting for the bidding period to end on the 25th.  So far, I'm the only one interested.

I've got my fingers crossed.

Searching for childhood memories.

I was transported back in time recently.

While visiting a friend recently, I got to see the small town she relocated to a few months ago. It was a quaint village -- almost a step back to earlier days really -- with nary a Gap, Victoria's Secret or Starbucks in sight. 

As we stepped out from the car, I commented on the plethora of antique stores lining the main street. I continued with a story about antiques.

My paternal grandmother, who passed away in 1971, had a set of "apple" dishes.  I have very vivid memories of her home, the dining room china cabinet (which has resided in my parents home since 1971) and the apple dishes displayed within.

Upon Nana's passing, my aunt has had possession of the dinnerware. Despite hints (subtle and not-so-subtle) from my father (her brother) and my sister (her niece and God-daughter), she's been unwilling to relinquish the dishes.

As I finished telling my friend this story, we stepped inside one of the antique stores.  As we made our way through the store, I stopped in my tracks.

Yeah, you guessed it.  There they were.  My apple dishes.

[A bit of background at this point. The actual name for these dishes are "Franciscan Apple." They were introduced in 1940 by Gladding, McBean & Company.  The company originated in 1875 to produce sewer tile for the American West, but its fame developed in 1934 when they started producing Franciscan dinnerware out of a plant in Glendale California.  Franciscan stopped production in 1984 and the rights to its designs, including the apple dishes were ultimately sold to Wedgewood in the UK.  The dishes are still made to this day, but in England.  Of course, it's the Franciscan-stamped items that are of most interest to collectors.]

I had never really considered collecting this stuff. I saw a stray plate at a flea market in Fort Lauderdale a few years ago, but it was expensive.  What I really wanted were my grandmother's plates.

But the store had six dinner plates, so I thought about it. 

We left and wandered into the next antique store.  There we found dessert plates, cups and saucers.  Enough to complete a service for six.

My friend looked at me and said, "You told me the story, now here they are. It's a sign. You are meant to buy these and if you don't, you will regret it."

So I bought them. And today, when I got home from work, there was the great big box, sitting at my front door.

So my aunt, whom I love dearly, can keep her dishes.  I'll duke it out with my cousins when the time comes.

* * * * *

I like antiques, but I'm not a big antiquer.  I do, however, have an antique holy grail, and I came oh-so close in the second store. But that's a story for tomorrow.

Bowing to the cupcake gods.

My friend Luisa and I have a great many things in common. Many can't be revealed in such a public forum as this blog, but the one I can talk about is our shared sweet tooth.

A couple of weeks ago Lu sent me a link to Yummy Cupcakes, a Los Angeles-based bakery with outlets in Burbank and Santa Monica.  She discovered the company shortly after moving to LA (go figure).

I checked out their website and was carried away on a virtual sugar high while reading their extraordinary menu.  What really piqued my interest was the notion of a brown sugar cinnamon cupcake. 

Well yesterday I arrived home to find a package waiting for me.  At first I was puzzled, as I was waiting for a giant box via UPS, the contents of which I will write about in a day or so.  I looked at the label and saw "Yummy Cupcakes" and I knew that my dear chocolate-loving friend was up to no good.

Inside I found an early birthday present:  two jars of "cupcakes in a jar" -- a vanilla cake/vanilla frosted selection, and of course, the brown sugar cinnamon confection that I could only dream about.

So imagine this:  a jar of layers of cupcake and frosting, just sitting their begging for a spoon.

 

I had dinner plans last night, so I put the cakes aside.  Tonight I arrived home and opened one of them.  Oh.  My.  Sheer delight.  I've got a sugar high buzzing through my head even as I write this post.

So if you want a great gift idea, check them out.  Sure beats flowers or fruit baskets.

First wives, current wives, future wives.

On First Wives
There was Footloose (not bad), Saturday Night Fever (I couldn't even think of going), Legally Blonde (absolutely love it), and most recently 9 to 5 (didn't do well on Broadway, but closing soon). 

Now, we have the latest movie-turned-musical: First Wives Club.

According to playbill.com, "They brood, they bend, they break, they bond — and they sing. These are the rituals of members of The First Wives Club — The Musical, opening in its world premiere July 31 in San Diego, CA.

"The Broadway-aimed musical about three women mistreated by their men pulses to an original score by Motown and pop team Holland-Dozier-Holland, and features Tony Award winner Karen Ziemba and Tony nominees Sheryl Lee Ralph and Barbara Walsh."

Somehow, I think it is going to be a good show.  If nothing else, it's worth seeing because of Karen Ziemba (loved her in Curtains) and Sheryl Lee Ralph (got to see her in Millie.)

Current Wives
Oh, those fun-loving, hypocritical moral conservatives are at it again.  After Palin's delightful dramedy last week, now we're treated to Sen. Paul Stanley, Republican lawmaker from Tennessee.  The MARRIED father of two who represents suburban Memphis, resigned from the state senate on Tuesday after his extramarital affair with a 22-year-old intern was revealed. 

According to the Associated Press, "Court records show that Stanley, 47, told agents investigating a blackmail case that he had a sexual relationship with intern McKensie Morrison. Her boyfriend, Joel Watts, is charged with trying to extort $10,000 from Stanley in April. Investigators say Watts demanded the money in exchange for not releasing to the media explicit photos of Morrison that Stanley had taken in what appears to be Stanley's apartment."

What I find so delicous about this is that Stanley, like so many others before him, loved to take the moral high ground. As a state senator, he sponsored failed measures to ban gay couples from adopting children. He also spoke out against funding for Planned Parenthood because he said unmarried people should not have sex.

Unmarried people should not have sex. Nice. Married people should not have sex outside their marriages too. 

Future Wives
Apparently, if I ever decide to go straight, I should have no problem finding me a woman.

My friend Kathy from high school emailed today. She was out with some of our classmates (Facebook really having a great affect on reuniting high school classmates) including a woman named Patty.  Patty and I were in the same youth group at church, so we knew each other somewhat well.  Someone had some pictures from high school and apparently I was in a couple of them.

"Oh how cute little Glenn was that turned into the handsome stud of a man!!!!!" is what Kathy wrote in her email.

She continued, "Do you find it weird that not only men are attracted to you but also women?  What do you do with that information when you find that out?  Do you get skived out?"

Well, no, I don't get skived out. Why would I?

I guess it's flattering. And slightly amusing.

A real girl.

Way back some months ago, I went out on a couple of dates with a cop.  Well, technically, he was a fundraiser for the local Police Benevolent Association, but he was still a cop. With a badge. And a gun.

It didn't amount to much. We never consummated the relationship.  Like so many in South Florida, he flaked out and disappeared, only to surface a couple of months later.  I politely declined his invitation to go out on a date.  He later reappeared in the form of a friend request on Facebook.

Sure, why not?

Today, I received a message from him.  He said that I seemed happy, as was he, having married a great girl in January.  He then suggested that he and wifeypoo (my word, not his) go out to dinner or a show with A and I.

He married a who???

I sent him an email asking if that was a "real girl," to which he replied yes.

I've been thinking about this all day.

There's no doubt that this guy was gay.  Trust me.  So what's this marriage thing about?

Was it me?  Did I make him go straight?  I doubt it.  But then again, poor John (bless his heart) was driven to drink by me on more than one occasion.  (I knew I had done something wrong if John walked into the house and took the Absolut from the freezer.)

No, I am sure it wasn't me.

I wonder if it's an immigration marriage (marrying someone to that person can come into the U.S. legally).  Could be. There's a lot of that here.

Or perhaps he's trying to get in to his father's good graces for financial reasons. More than one poofter has gone thought route, to be sure.

Maybe he's bisexual. When I hear that word I think of someone trying to come out of the closet.  But no, this guy was really out. 

Whatever it is, it's got me perplexed.  At least for today.

Apples and cranberries.

This fruit-themed stream of consciousness has been going through my head all day.

An Apple a day Every Two Years

Apple announced that the next generation of the iPhone is due out later this month.  It's twice as fast as the current version, works as a modem, has voice recognition capability, and all sorts of other cool things.  On top of it all, the prices are less than the current generation of phones.

 

A and I already talked this morning and giving each other one as birthday presents.  But no, AT&T has other ideas. 

The great prices are only for new users, or people who qualified for a phone upgrade or whose contracts have expired.  None of those apply to me.

In the past couple of years, I've become a real Apple-head.  So hooked am I that I would run out and get the phone as soon as it is available.  But if I do, it will cost me in excess of $500.  They penalize the current iPhone users.

WTF is up with that?  They're cutting off good business from loyal customers (I write this on my MacBook while listening to music on my iPod that I downloaded on iTunes), who are sensible with their money.

I [heart] the Big Apple

Yet another reason to love New York City: the new High Line Park opened today.  Located on Manhattan's West Side, this new urban oasis is on an elevated train track that was abandoned in 1980 (it formerly carried cattle into the city's Meatpacking District). 

The High Line was built in the 1930s, as part of a massive public-private infrastructure project called the West Side Improvement. It lifted freight traffic 30 feet in the air, removing dangerous trains from the streets of Manhattan's largest industrial district.

Friends of the High Line, a community-based non-profit group, formed in 1999 when the historic structure was under threat of demolition. Friends of the High Line works in partnership with the City of New York to preserve and maintain the structure as an elevated public park.

I've been captivated by this project for sometime and really can't wait to get to the Big Apple to see it firsthand.

Salad Toppers

I just finished eating a salad for dinner (in my never-ending quest to lose some weight).  Over the past couple of months, I've become obsessed with dried cranberries.

I can't seem to have a salad without them. They also really tasty in my Cinnamon Apple Squares, which I bake for my fall-themed parties.

I Can't Think of a Fruit Analogy Here

Here's where the fruit theme falls apart.  My friend Kathy sent me an email this morning.

"Don't you think you look like a cross between Kiefer Sutherland and Glenn Beck?"

Well, no, I don't think so.  But then again, I've never really considered it.  After thinking about it, I'm not sure I agree.  Yeah, I'm blond like them, but that's about it.  I'm two years older than Beck and four years Sutherland's senior.  And Beck is a right-winger, but don't get me started about that.  [Wait, maybe I just found the fruit analogy -- right wingers are fruit cakes.  I knew I could do it!]