Happy Birthday, Ma'am!

Please join me in wishing Her Most Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second a very happy 80th birthday.

What a handsome woman.

SNOWBLIND!! (a.k.a. Colorado, 2006)

Well I’ve made it back from Colorado—and in one piece to boot.

So the plan was for me and that Most Beautiful Lady Karen Landes to visit Rocky Mountain National Park and go skiing in Colorado. After an early-morning flight, our first adventure was in suburban Denver. Being the mental giant that she is, Karen forgot her jacket—which kinda’ comes in handy while skiing above the snow line. So we stopped at the Super Target to find a cheap coat. She finally found one (in the boy’s section). Even more exciting was the fact that we could stock up on groceries and go next door to visit Bass Pro Shop’s Outdoor World: 186,000 square feet of fishing and hunting supplies sold amongst taxidermied woodland creatures and man-made waterfalls!

Karen finds herself super-charged in front of the Super Target. Target is always such a treat for us city dwellers:


Our groceries from the Super Target. Why is it that—no matter how old you may get—when left to your own devices on vacation you still shop like your parents are away for the weekend?!:


Outdoor World, for all of your huntin' and shootin' needs:


When animals attack…SHOP!:


Eeeek!:


What are the chances that we’d run into Karen’s mom at the store?!:



Finally we were off to Rocky Mountain National Park. We arrived in Estes Park, the gateway town, pretty late—having been distracted by the wonders of Super Target and Outdoor World—so it wasn’t until the next morning that we headed out to see the beautiful vistas and wild animals of the mighty Rocky Mountains…



Rocky Mountain panorama (as with all pictures, you can click to enlarge):


Traffic jam, Rocky-Mountain–style:


Goats!:


“Um, yeah…I’m gonna have to ask you to go ahead and stop watching me eat…”:


Beautiful:


Just before we left I got this snappy new watch that tells you everything you ever didn’t really need to know, including the altitude. Here’s proof that it’s remarkably accurate. Go Finnish design!:


At one point Karen asked me to pop the trunk. I assumed that she needed something, but apparently she just wanted to let us drive 20 miles with it open. Here’s my reaction to that discovery:


A handsome lesbian couple took this shot for us:


“Be vewy, vewy quiet…I’m huntin’ elk…” :


…and here they are!:


Karen on our hike around Bear Lake. The fact that the snow was too thick to see where the land stopped and the lake started—coupled with the fact that ice was dangerously thin—made it a more daring hike than you might imagine:


Here’s some trash in Rocky Mountain National Park (and she’s throwing something in the garbage...hey-o!):


Where’s Waldo? (Karen trying to scare me):


On another hike:



That night we continued on to Breckenridge, where we would be staying for the rest of our trip, and skiing on our first day. Breck is a popular ski resort that’s based in an actual old Colorado town—so it has some history and local charm. We had a nice 2-bedroom lodge with a fireplace and everything, all within walking distance of both town and the slopes. The skiing was great. It had recently snowed, but it was sunny and 60 degrees!!

Karen, ready to go in her new Target coat:


And here’s me, easily mistaken for an Olympian:


Joe Cool on the lift. The goggles help to hide the terror in my eyes. I never did learn to like the ski lift:


Looking down (yikes!). Maybe Joe’s not-so-Cool after all, given that they write your name on your rental skis:


Karen, apparently very excited to be on the lift:


At the top, over 10,000 feet. I did feel a little woozy at times. Karen really LOVED my constantly pointing out our altitude; I mean, if that doesn’t make for nonstop fun, what does?!:


NOW…you can watch video of our skills!! Note that this was early on our first day, so we hadn’t gotten our “ski legs” yet:

CLICK HERE to see KAREN SNOWBOARDING!

CLICK HERE to see ME SKIING!

You can stop for a snack halfway down the mountain:


Our cozy lodge. The fireplace was gas and operated by a switch, but I still liked to pretend I was all manly and “built” the fire every time. I’m not sure Karen was fooled:


Karen’s room. Talk about “country” décor:


A very candid shot of Karen strolling through downtown Breck:


At The Gold Pan bar in Breck. Opened during the gold rush in 1859, it’s “the oldest continuously operated bar West of the Mississippi:




The next day we drove to Copper Mountain, another ski resort. They had some great trails and some magnificent views from the top.

The view from the top at Copper (the “Copper Top”?!)…note Karen snowboarding out of the picture to the left:


Karen snowboarding at Copper:


Karen’s snack waiting for her at the bottom of the mountain at the end of our trip: sweets, treats, and ibuprofen:


All in all, I have to say that I was pretty impressed by my natural skiing abilities. I was shussing down those mountains by the end like nobody’s business. That said, I should point out (since Karen will post it here if I don’t anyway) that at one point, in Copper, I fell —getting on the ski lift. For those of you not familiar with skiing, falling when you get OFF the lift is not uncommon. But getting ON? You have to be an idiot. Or, in this case, me. I went down and everybody started yelling “Duck! Duck!” At first I thought they were all just calling my name, having read it on my skis. But no, they were telling me to duck before I got bulldozed by the still-moving chair lift! I ducked, and it swung over my head (missing me by a hair) before the operator was able to pull the emergency stop. I wasn’t hurt, except for my pride. But just remember the next time you’re on a chair lift an it stops for a few seconds, and you think to yourself “What jackass fell off it now?!”, that it might—just might,—be me.

That said, in the interest of equal time, here’s a video of Karen taking off like a shot…

CLICK HERE to see KAREN’S GRACE AND STYLE!

That evening we went for a bird’s eye view of Breck from the top of Baldy Mountain (funny, that’s also a nickname of mine):



By the time we got home, Karen’s eyes were red and puffy and sore…and a quick Web search revealed that she was SNOWBLIND!! This is essentially a sunburn of the eyeballs that is more common among skiers because of the reflection off the snow and the stronger UV rays at higher altitudes. So we spent a quiet night at home while Karen nursed her eyes, and we ate Chinese take out:



The next day we headed home with memories to last a lifetime. Not to mention sore muscles. And Karen’s inflamed retinas.

________

Some random items:

We went through historical Central City, Colorado…a gambling town that has definitely seen its day. But there was this entertaining sign:


Animals? Or donuts? Hmmm…


High voltage can be scary enough. But High Voltage Man really helps to make the point!:


My first interactive feature! Got a caption for this picture? Click the “Comments” link below and post it! (then again, this one is just too easy):

Beantown, 2006

Yes, I know, it's been a while. My computer died, leaving me with little internet access and unable to access recent pictures for blog entries about my trips to Miami and the GLAAD Media Awards. Hopefully it can be fixed, and then I'll backtrack. But for now, it's off to Boston....

For those of you who may not know or remember (or even care), I went to BU undergrad and graduate school. It’s where I got both my Bachelor’s Degree (major in English, minors in French and Classical Civilization) and my Master’s (World Literature). It was more or less a good time. I made good friends (some of whom are still an important part of my life) and Boston was a fun place to live and go to school. So when I recently had to come to on business, I took the opportunity to walk down memory lane…otherwise known as Comm Ave.

Some things are so different. There are entire new buildings, and many businesses have changed over. Everyone has laptops and cell phones now (when I was a student, I don’t think they’d even discovered the human cell yet). And everyone is so young. Was I really that young in college? We all thought we were so grown up. And I like to think that I am still more or less college age now. But guess what: I'm not. I’m OLD.

On the other hand, some things are eerily unchanged. There are times when I half expected my friends to come along and head off to class, as though the last 12 years of my life (God, has it really been that long?!) were just one weird, Dallas-esque dream.

In any event, here are some pix of Boston and BU. Some of these may be less appreciated by those of you who are not BU alumni, but…

Trinity Church on the left, I. M. Pei’s cool Hancock Tower on the right, and some Bostonians out enjoying the first warm day of spring in Copley Square. If they look relaxed, it’s because the windows of the Hancock Tower have stopped popping out and killing people (as always, you can click on any picture to enlarge it):



The Boston Public Library:



Aww…it’s nice to see that the Sweet-n-Nasty erotic bakery is still in business (“I thought that cake was in the shape of Florida!” –Rose Nylund):



The famed Citgo sign, recognizable to anyone who watches the Red Sox (it is clearly and intentionally visible from neighboring Fenway). It’s on top of the BU Bookstore, where they once had cat treats—normally priced at $1.00—on sale for ONLY 99 CENTS! Don’t scoff…if you bought 99 of them, it would be like getting one for free!:



This used to be Videosmith, the local video rental place. It's famous because of the time my friend Janét borrowed a Videosmith rental card from a friend of ours. She tried to use it, telling the clerk that he was her boyfriend and that he had loaned her the card to rent a movie. When the clerk swiped it, they both discovered that her “boyfriend” had copious late fees…for gay porn titles. Not sure who was more embarrassed:



WARREN TOWERS: Two words that resound in the soul of any BU alumnus. The largest non-military dorm in the country with nearly 2000 students—mostly freshmen—it’s appropriately nicknamed “The Zoo”. This is a place that you love to hate, and hate to...well, you just hate it. But it was a rite of passage. So many things lent to its charm…the prison-like, cinderblock interior…the paper-thin walls…the filthy shared bathrooms with occasional hot water…the windows that leaked every time it rained…the false fire alarms that forced you from your bed into a frigid Boston winter’s night at 3AM…and let’s not forget the infamous poison gas leak. Oh, the poison gas leak! Good times, good times:



In the main floor of Warren Towers, “Taco Smell”—where you might go to eat if you ran out of meal points or just wanted to splurge—is still going strong!:



“City Convenience” my ass. This place used to be called “Campus Convenience”. Actually, we called it “Campus Rip-Off” because a package of Ramen noodles cost $3:



The three-towered building on the right is Myles Standish Hall, where I lived my Junior year. He was a very short and ill-tempered Pilgrim. Picture Danny DeVito with a funny hat:



Shelton Hall, where I lived Sophomore year. Before it was a dorm, it was the Shelton Hotel. And before that, it was one of the first ever Sheraton Hotels. The story goes that, when Sheraton sold it, the new owners called it the Shelton because they didn’t want to change the monogrammed towels:



Bay State Road, the only attractive part of what passes for the BU “campus”. These brownstones are about half offices and half dorms—which are almost impossible to get into. I myself was rejected by the Maison Français. I should have put up a better fight…they’d have surrendered real easy (hey-o!…Je suis désolé, Celine...pardonnes-moi!):



This is the new Hillel House that opened last year. The old one was a craphole. It may be different now, but in my heart Wednesday will always be dairy day…:



The beautiful BU Castle. They show it to you on every tour like it’s the center of campus life…but in 4 years I never even got inside it once:



Ye Olde English Department, where I passed many an hour in grad school debating the relevance of Ibsen, the reach of existentialism, and stealing toilet paper:



That’s Morse Auditorium on the left and COM (the School of Communications) on the right. We pretty much invented karaoke in Morse, which was never locked at night and where the audio system was always left on. There’s a fountain in front of COM into which mischievous students would occasionally pour shampoo, making it bubble over. Ah, youth:



By the way, yes—that’s The “T” (the Boston subway) that runs above ground and right across the campus. Convenient, yes, but noisy—and it killed at least one student per year. Good times, good times.

Tsai Performance Center, where my singing career began (and ended, all at once):



The Dugout is the only on-campus bar at BU, and it’s a dump. We always tried to class it up by calling it “le du-geau”:



CLA, the College of Liberal Arts, where I went…though now it’s called CAS, the College of Arts and Sciences. Yes, everything at BU is known by a three-letter acronym. Any BU student or alum knows the difference between CLA, CAS, COM, SFA, GSU, SED, GAS, MUG, CBS, MET, SMG, STH, and the dreaded 880…:



Marsh Plaza. The sculpture in the middle honors one of BU’s more famous alumni, Dr. Martin Luther King (it’s where he got that “Dr” in his name). Note the kids who are frolicking with a Frisbee. We would occasionally go Frisbee frolicking, not so much because we liked it, but because we felt compelled—that’s what students always seemed to be doing on college brochures:



Entrance to Mugar, the main library at BU:



GSU, the George Sherman Student Union. When I was there, you had your choice of school food or Burger King. Now there’s all kinds of good stuff, including a Starbucks and a Jamba Juice! Then again, how many college students can afford a $6 cup of coffee?:



One of my proudest college accomplishments was directing a production of Tennessee Williams’ Suddenly, Last Summer…and this is where it all happened (riveting, I know):



The Campus Trolley, good for a quick falafel between classes. Sadly it doesn’t actually move, and they yell at you if you ring the bell:



This the one and only sizeable strip of grass on campus, between a parking lot and the highway. It’s affectionately known as “BU Beach” because it offers a view of the Charles River:



The lovely BU Boathouse:



A sunny day on the Charles:




Check out this fashion-challenged crew of geeks! These are all of the professors who have won the annual Metcalf Award, a student-nominated prize for excellence in teaching. I had two of these professors, including Celia Millward (center in the bottom row), my all-time favorite professor. I went to say hi to her only to learn that shortly after I graduated, she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and died within months. Sad. This is the woman who (literally) wrote the book on the history of the English language, and had so many great stories from a life well lived. Example: when teaching us about Scottish dialects, she illustrated it with a story from her own time there. Queen Elizabeth’s motorcade was coming through a small town in Scotland, and the people had lined the streets to catch a glimpse. Mrs. Millward saw an adorable little girl in pig-tails and a little tartan dress standing nearby, waving a small British flag in her hand. Enchanted, Mrs. Millward said to her “My, I’ll bet you’re very excited to see the Queen!” The little girl looked up at her and replied, in a strong Scottish brogue, “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ brilliant!”



So was Mrs. Millward. Rest in peace.

The last day, a low, San Francisco-like fog covered the city. Here's a cool shot of the Hancock Tower eerily disappearing into it:



And finally, a few night shots of Boston from my hotel:





So what's next? Well, this Friday I'm off for my first ski trip to Colorado. Yep, that's right. I'm gonna die. But if I don't, it should be pretty entertaining...and I'll try to post some stuff (if I can still type in the body cast)...