Pen and Ink

Final thoughts on Christmas.

Here are some pictures I shot Monday night in New York City. There's nothing better than Christmas in the Big Apple.

Oh, mamma mia.

So here I am, at the Winter Garden Theater, getting ready to see Mamma Mia. I am in the first row. I can touch the stage, see the orchestra in the pit. And I am sitting, quite literally, next to the conductor. This really is too close, but I'm told the show has hot dancer boys, so maybe it's not too close after all.

Me in the cold

Here I sit, in the cold, waiting for Mamma Mia.

Ready for the Heights.

It's a great set for In the Heights, which begins in six minutes.

Harvey, part two.

Well, Marissa didn't perform this afternoon, but Harvey was worth the $115 ticket price. And the audience, largely tourists, knew they were in the presence of royalty.

After a bite to eat on Eighth Ave., I'm off to see In the Heights. it wasn't high on my list of shows to see, but everyone tells me it is a must-see. So see I will.

I will report back on my blog-on-the-go.

Harvey from the 11th row.

I'm about to see Hairspray (again). Harvey Fierstein is back, as is Marissa Jaret Winokur, who originated the role of Tracy. They've returned for the final weeks of the show. I've never seen Harvey on stage, so this is a treat. Well, call it like it really is...an overindulgence.

Make a joyful noise.

Presents under the tree are a wondrous thing. I'm still like a kid, eager to see what Santa left during his late-night visit.

But this Christmas, I make a joyful noise of celebration for the presents I receive each and every day: the people in my life who bring me joy.

I make a joyful noise for my family who love and accept me for who I am (despite occasional teasing).

I make a joyful noise for Cary, who is a blessing as my best friend and "surrogate partner."

I make a joyful noise for Chris, Drew and Martin -- also my family. Despite living hundreds of miles apart, we always seem to find ways to see each other with relative frequency during the year. I cannot imagine my life without them. They are the people who know me so well.

I make a joyful noise for John, who had it in him to continue being my friend even after I ended our romantic relationship. I still inwardly laugh at his corny jokes, even while moaning aloud (there, I said it).

I make a joyful noise for people I knew before this year, but with whom I have become much closer: Christopher, Lu, Madi, Meredith, Susan and Wilson.

I make a joyful noise for the new people who have come into my life this year: Keith, Al, David, Jean-Pierre, Vivian, Marcelo, David and Juan Carlos, Brian and Melvin, Chuck and Brian, Wayne and Paul.

And lastly, I make a joyful noise for J, who has recently entered my life carrying with him a beautiful, warm light.

It's been a noisy year. And I love it.

Merry Christmas.

A Christmas tree of yore.

The most common thing I heard about my Christmas tree this year was, "It takes me back to my childhood!"

I returned to my own childhood Christmas by shunning the ubiquitous mini lights that I have used for years in favor of the old fashioned C7 bulbs that so many of us grew up with.

It started last year when I arrived at my parents' for the holiday.  Because I did not do my own tree last year, they left theirs unadorned so that I could have the joy of decorating. Rooting through the boxes of lights and decorations, I found a sole strand of C7 lights. 

What joy! 

I grabbed my parents and off we went to Target, so I could purchase more lights for the tree.

The lights, combined with all of the old ornaments of my youth, just delighted me so much that after Christmas, I returned to Target and bought nine or 10 boxes of C7s for myself. 

The lights were not the only thing old fashioned about this tree. My growing collection of Shiny Brite ornaments -- not the vintage but the Christopher Radko reproductions -- added to the nostalgia factor. I found two really interesting essays on the history of Shiny Brite, if you are interested. They are here and here.

It was fun to do my tree in this fashion, something I will do again next year.  And you can bet I will never-ever use those God awful LED Christmas lights that have come into fashion. That's just wrong.

On the eleventh day.

I had a a chance to catch up with Christopher via Yahoo Messenger the other morning. We chatted about my holiday party, his recent trip to Miami for Art Basel, his new job, and basically about his new life as an artist in New York City.

He confessed, earlier on in the chat, that he was still a bit lonely sometimes, despite dating someone. But hey, that's to be expected when you move to a new city without really knowing anyone there.  I've done it twice...believe me, I know!

The conversation turned to the imminent Christmas celebration. I asked him what he was doing and he responded that he had no plans.  His comment about being lonely had struck me, and after a little deliberation on my part, I invited him to join me for Christmas in New Jersey.

No one should be alone for Christmas. Especially in a city like New York.

He said he'd feel awkward, but I assured him that we were extremely casual and that he would be made to feel right at home. You'll have to go to church with me on Christmas Eve, I warned him.

My sisters and my friends have always, always been welcome in my parents' house, so I knew my invitation to him would not be problem.

He didn't give me a definitive answer, but nonetheless I called Mom just to let her know what I had done. Of course she was fine with it and asked a few questions about who "this Christopher" is.

"Well, let me know soon so we can make a stocking for him."

I knew she would make him feel welcome.

Then I called Kathy and told her.  The stocking thing came up again.  But then she reminded me of the ramifications of my invitation.

"Did you tell him we'll say all sorts of inappropriate things at the dinner table?"

"Um, no, I told him it would be very casual and relaxed."

"Well, it will be exciting if he comes, he can be number eleven."

"Huh? What?"

"You know, number eleven.  The eleventh day.  In the song?"

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

"The song. Our tradition of singing the Twelve Days of Christmas around the table. There's only 10 of us, so he can be the eleventh day."

"What tradition? I know of no such tradition."

"UUUGGGHHH.  Yes, we started it last year."

A slight wave of remembrance (mixed with nausea) came over me as I recalled her little Christmas sing-a-long last year. I think we had bells or some such silly thing at the table.  (Kathy has always been a little off-center.) I supposed I had hoped, in vain it turns out, that last year's little quirk would be forgotten and never to be repeated.  After all, none of us -- and I mean NONE OF US -- has any ability to sing.

The eleventh day.  Poor Chris. He has no idea what he's in for.

Dopey.

Winter weather in New York (and the whole Northeast) derailed plans for an up-and-back business trip to the Big Apple today. So I took a vacation day, starting my two-week holiday one day early.

The unintended day-off allowed me to have a second date with a new romantic interest.

It was a perfectly gorgeous early winter day on South Beach's Lincoln Road as we sat outside at Books & Books enjoying our burgers (he snickers at his northern friends as he writes this).  The conversation took all sorts of twists and turns, as usually happens as you are getting to know someone new.  The connection we found on our first date grew stronger on our second.

After lunch, we walked a few blocks together, J on his way to a haircut and me just roaming aimlessly. A fabulous hug goodbye turned into a even more fabulous kiss. Right there. Out in the open. On Lincoln Road.  Of course this being South Beach, we were hardly the first two guys to make out in public. But still, for me, it was a first.

The whole thing left me in a haze.  I continued wandering Lincoln Road looking for a gift for someone, but felt really out of it.  I was there, but not there.  Which is dangerous.

I stopped by Kiehl's.  For the record, I've never been to a Kiehl's store or bought their products in my life. But today, I just had to have some.  See what I mean by dangerous? I hardly needed any overpriced shaving stuff, and it's not as though my American Express card needs the exercise or something!

Then I went back to Books & Books to look for a gift for a friend who may end up spending Christmas with my family.  I ran into Bill, a friend and colleague I hadn't seen in awhile. We chatted and then he introduced me to someone else.  But I really didn't feel like I was present in the moment. My mind was still on lunch.  Then when I saw that J had left a voice mail, I quickly said my goodbyes and went outside to return the call.

Back in Books & Books after the call with J, I spent more money on some photograph cards that I really didn't need.  But again, I really wasn't there. 

Someone, please, take my AMEX away.  I do dopey things when I'm in this mood.