I did a post on rising this morning. I wanted to be casual about the anniversary of this little place on the Internet. I worked a 12 hour day & I took a moment to look at the blog on my new Iphone (I can't leave it alone! I have apps!) & I was horrified to see that Blogger had juxtapositioned fonts & the post didn't feel right visually. I am blocked from blogging, porn & Facebook at my place of employment (I know, what sort of job is that?) & I continued to think about the future of my espousing opinions & relating tales on this blog all day.
I started Post Apocalyptic Bohemia as a challenge to myself. I wanted to tell my story & having given up performing, I was craving a bit of attention. I fumbled at the beginning. Promising a post each day was daunting. Looking at the posts from the first year embarrasses me now, but I am standing by them. Like so many events in my life, I was doing the best I could with what I knew at the time.
I wanted to tell my story, because, when I would recounted pieces of my life to others, I was reminded that my life has been awesome & amusing, titillating & touching, sad & silly, but never normal.
I am a pre-Stonewall gay man. I am so old that I remember that the few hopeful points of being a homo were that you wouldn’t have to get married & have children, & you wouldn’t have to serve in the military. I never dreamed in my lifetime that gays would fight a winning battle to be able to be a member of the armed forces & to marry, settle down & have a family.
For me, coming out in my early teens, I saw being gay as a gift. If I had been born straight, I would have been The Man. I would have been an Anglo, heterosexual male, & I was more predispositioned to being an outsider & I thank God for making me distinctive, dissident & deviant.
I wished to acquaint readers with the lives of the famous homos. I desired for readers to like me, & discover me as pretty, witty & gay.
This is the life I dream: I awake early each day & after a power, protein shake, I work out with my personal trainer- Bruno, who works me hard & keeps me at single digit body fat.
I have coffee & spend the morning recounting the lives of famous gay people born on that day, give my opinion on culture & read other people’s blogs.
I enjoy a light lunch of salad & champagne before heading out for rehearsals for Steve! - my saucy, sassy show on HBO. I introduce myself to this week’s guests: Anderson Cooper, Angela Lansbury, Michele Obama, Daniel Craig & Sandra Bernhard.
Anderson & I are going to be singing- Together, Wherever We Go from Gypsy, after our zany sketch where my face is Cooper’s Bicycle seat. Ms Lansbury & I have a spot where we look back on our times working together before breaking into Bosom Buddies from Mame. The First Lady & I do a gardening segment. With Mr. Craig, there is a demonstration of how to mix the perfect Martini & Manhattan, after which we depict Greek lovemaking positions in silhouette behind a scrim. Sandra & I dish delightfully & do a cover of Barracuda by Heart. The entire show wraps up with all my guests in a rousing medley of favorite early rap numbers: Rapture, Woody Rappinghood, & Rapper’s Delight.
This is the reality: rise early, make coffee, & attempt to impart something fresh, facetious & fascinating on Post Apocalyptic Bohemian. I take the terriers for their walk while continuing to write in my head. Then off to the job I must perform to have an income. I will attempt to do this better than anyone else... or at least with more invention & intelligence. Then I will come back, at the end of the day, to my uncommon home, 2 tenacious terriers & one shining, skilled, smart spouse. Not at all, a bad gig.
I am thankful for what I have, most certainly including the readers of my little spot on the Internet. You are loved. Really. Thank you for 3 years. As The Husband once knowingly said: "you never said more than 2 words for 25 years... & now you won't shut up."