registered and getting ready to ride

Well, it's official . . . I've registered for AIDS/LifeCycle 7, a 545-mile trek from San Francisco to Los Angeles that will probably raise more than $10 million for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and the L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center. The ride is next June, and there are a few things I need to do to get ready . . .

First, I'll need to raise at least $2,500, and second, I'll need to get myself in pretty darn good shape. I've done both before -- even though it's been quite a while -- and I have an idea of what it will take.

Over the next several months, I'll keep you up to date on my progress, write about why I'm doing this, and probably ask for your help.

Here we go . . .

how huge thou art

I drove home to Ohio a few weeks ago to visit my sister and attend a little reunion at my college alma mater (more on that later).

As you drive by on I-75, just a few miles south of my parents' house in Franklin and just north of where my sister lives in West Chester, is an amazing sight. No matter what your belief.


Exploding out of the ground in front of the Solid Rock Church (a 3,000-member non-denominational mega-church) is a 62-foot statue of Christ called King of Kings. According to Roadside America, church leaders believe the fiberglass and styrofoam sculpture is among the world's largest representations of Christ and have submitted it to Guinness for consideration. (But hello, what about the 130-foot Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro?)

Inspiring? Maybe. Creepy? Definitely.

I remember watching the progress of the sculpture's construction during several visits home in the summer of 2004. It was most disturbing at one point to see Christ reaching towards the heavens . . . headless.

paph and phal

It's been a while since the first orchid-of-the-month delivery -- Hauserman's grows the most spectacular plants around; however, their customer service and delivery reliability are somewhat less than stellar. So even though they delivered two fabulous plants on Friday, I (sadly) discontinued my membership. Not really a big deal -- it just means I'll have to travel out there next time . . .

The first plant is a new variety for me -- a paphiopedilum (according to the label, a paphiopedilum Hsinying Majukun '#4' hybridized with a paphiopedilum lawrenceanum 'Tradition').

Paphs generally will only have one bloom at a time and care is slightly different, so I've a little homework to do in order to take care of this one. Amazing, isn't it?


The second new plant is a phalaenopsis and its color is incredible. Of course, this image doesn't quite capture the depth of the purple/magenta, but you get the idea.

So, now there are nine phalaenopsis on the sill -- six are blooming, one will be shortly, and two are just visiting until they're ready to bloom again.

And actually, it's probably a good idea to discontinue the membership. I'm running out of room.

why we fight

I heard a program on NPR last weekend and Christopher Guest was being interviewed. He was asked what movies he had seen recently, and he mentioned Why We Fight, a recent documentary about the economics and politics of war as well as several Americans’ perceptions of why we’re in Iraq. It had been in my Netflix queue for a while, so I moved it up to the top. And I watched it tonight.

Dear god. Not that we need any more reasons to distrust the current administration. But dear god. Here's just a few quotes:

“Today, the United States spends more on defense than on all other discretionary parts of the federal budget combined.”

“The defense budget is three-quarters of a trillion dollars. Profits went up last year over twenty-five percent. I guarantee you that when war becomes that profitable, you’re going to see more of it.”

“Between 2002 and 2003, the Pentagon spent $1.2 billion on advertising intended to increase [military] recruitment.”

“During the first 6 months of the Iraq war, 50 precision airstrikes were conducted against Iraqi leadership. Of these strikes, none hit its intended target.”

“Most of the government’s decisions today are substantially dictated by powerful corporate interest. Clearly capitalism is winning.”

It’s just getting more and more difficult to be proud to be an American.

volunteering

Guess it’s been a while since I posted – recording sessions, holiday weekend, gardening, more recording, etc. Doesn’t leave much time for blogging . . .

Spent a good chunk of last weekend volunteering – first, my pals Linda, Chris, and I took last Friday off to help out up at the Frederick Stock School for their Family Fun Day.

Over the last couple of years I've helped to support the Stock School, a Chicago Public School early childhood center on the far northwest side that serves children (ages three to six) with and without disabilities. What an incredible place.

Both Linda (Stock's great-granddaughter) and I have been principals-for-a-day, helped out with their annual Leon's Gift benefit, and volunteered for their Family day. I was able to twist Chris's arm enough to convince him to join us. It was a perfect day, and we had a blast.

The day started out with a parade, and the three of us were invited to be the guest grand marshals.

After the parade, a group of about twenty girls had a cheerleading routine to share. This was definitely one of the highlights of the day!

Next, all of the kids – regardless of disability – participated in a relay race. As each child crossed the finish line, they were given a medal, and Chris, Linda, and I had the privilege of presenting them. There was such determination to cross the line and get a medal!

I wasn't able to get many pictures of the race because there wasn't a spare moment to grab my camera. However, I was able to get this shot of the final runner as everyone cheered her in.

The rest of the day included all kinds of activities for the kids and their families, followed by a cookout and live Calypso-themed entertainment. What a great place. What a great day.

Then on Sunday, I hauled out of bed early and stumbled down to Soldier Field for the closing ceremonies of this year's Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.

Spent the morning loading giant tubs with bottled water and ice, filling up coolers with Gatorade (and a couple of the Soldier Field workers let us sneak onto the field for a moment), and unloading gear trucks.

Took a bit of a break to watch some of the walkers come in, most of them having trekked over forty miles in two days.

This year's was the biggest Chicago walk ever. There were more than 3,600 participants and over $8.3 million (so far) has been raised. Well done!

saint tinky winky

I couldn't resist . . .


Thanks to Daryl Cagle at MSNBC.

Lots more "Farewell Falwell" cartooons here. And Tinky Winky's response can be found here.

that's the way

What a spectacular day.

Rode my bike downtown, bright and early -- so great with no traffic on a Sunday morning. Met Manuel, Erik, and 35,000 of our closest friends for the Y-ME run (which raised more than $7 million, they announced). Actually saw photographer Todd twice -- once just past the start amidst a sea of runners and again as we were on our bikes escaping the Loop.

A brisk, relatively easy 5K today. Just have to keep increasing that mileage . . .

Spent the rest of the afternoon in the backyard, among other things, planting the flower boxes for out front. I decided to keep it simple this year with three colors of geraniums and two different ipomoea batata plants (just learned that they're related to morning glories). Now I just need some help hoisting up the boxes. Roxie and Theo made their best effort, but you can see just how far that goes.


Speaking of the dogs, they were both due for baths today. Afterwards, Roxie sunned herself up on the porch and enjoyed some disco hits from the 70s. I swear that when I took this picture KC and the Sunshine Band's "That's the Way I Like It" was playing.

Yep, that's the way. Uh huh.

pretty in pink

This spectacular photo (click on the image for a slightly larger view) was taken the other evening by our colleague Todd Rosenberg, who also happens to be the official photographer for the Chicago chapter of the Y-ME National Breast Cancer Organization. Several buildings in the Loop are decked out in pink in honor of Mother's Day and the Y-ME events this weekend, and isn't it just amazing how Todd captured the John Hancock Center's reflection on the lake (once again, I'm experiencing camera envy).

Erik, Manuel, and I are all set to run in the race, bright and early on Sunday. I'm not sure how many thousands of runners they're expecting, but I've heard that it's the largest 5K in the city. So it'll probably be like elbowing your way through a crowded dance floor.

I just started running again over the last couple of weeks, so I should be fine for a 5K. Might gear up for a half-marathon or two this summer, but I don't think there are any more full marathons in my future. Just can't commit to all of that training.

Um, not that I have commitment issues or anything . . .

this just in . . .

I hardly ever actually pick up a newspaper and I rarely watch the news on television. So to stay current, I rely a lot on NPR, Time magazine, and a few websites, including the Chicago Tribune, The New York Times, CNN, and (of course) The Onion.

Well, I'm beginning to doubt one of my choices. I was browsing the CNN site a few minutes ago and of the twelve so-called "top stories," here are eight of them:

• Uhm, you should expect fat in your KFC, judge says
• Woman, 65, charged with taping teen sex acts
• KKK witness speaks from the grave
• Sleepyhead boy saves his mother from fire
• Critics not amused by British queen’s photo
• Reagan diary gives new take on insanity
• Prom night comes 60 years late for sweeties
• Britney Spears takes baby step back on stage

Switch them around a bit, and they're just as goofy:

• Britney Spears gives new take on insanity
• Reagan charged with taping teen sex acts from the grave
• KKK witness not amused 60 years late
• Sleepyhead boy should expect fat on prom night
• Uhm, British queen not amused in KFC, judge says

Now that would be news.

green furniture

What a spectacular weekend. Roxie worked on her tan, Theo protected the estate from evildoers, and I got a lot of work done in the garden.

The big project involved some relatively simple rearranging. My grandmother Ruth always used to say, "Plants are like furniture. If you don't like where they are, move them." So there.

Over the last couple of years I've attempted to invest in more perennials (mainly to avoid spending a fortune on annuals every spring). Some of them grew better/worse/different than planned, so now was the perfect time to move things around.

Here's a "before" image (note Theo proudly performing his self-appointed guard duties).

And after several hours of digging, planting, changing my mind and re-planting (I don't have an eye for design by any means—It's one of the gay genes with which I was not blessed), and finally mulching, here's the result.

OK, so it doesn't look dramatically different right now. But it will . . .

There's a new addition, just visible in the lower left-hand corner above. Roses have never been a strong suit, but it's a new year, right? This Mister Lincoln is one of the most popular and hearty hybrid tea roses, and hopefully it will look something like this later this summer.


And the Pope John Paul II clematis, formerly in residence along the back fence, has a new home on the west side of the garage where I hope it will be happier. Here's what it will look like in a month or so.



Roxie didn't look much darker, but as far as I could tell no evildoers had invaded Theo's well-guarded territory.

Gardening sure is exhausting.

Diclavis enorma

On Monday evening, I did something I haven’t done in ages. I went to a senior recital. Tim, a piano performance major at Wheaton College, is the son of one of my sister’s former colleagues and a good friend of a couple of our interns (one former, one current). Yes, small world.

He started the program with two Bach arrangements: Busoni’s of the Wachet auf chorale followed by Rachmaninov’s of the prelude from the E major violin partita. Tim played both very well, but it was clear he was anxious to get on with the rest of the program.

The next piece had been written for the recital by David Gordon, a visiting professor at Wheaton and one of Tim’s instructors. It was called Diclavis enorma.

The work’s title is an invented combination of two obscure medieval Latin terms – “diclavis” which refers to a keyboard instrument that has a full complement of chromatic pitches, and “clavis enorma,” which designates a special quarter-tone key on a keyboard instrument . . .

It is scored for three keyboards – grand piano, two toy pianos, and a set of eleven microtonally tuned call bells (“the kind that you would find next to a ‘ring bell for service’ sign”) – and a sampled recording of the same three keyboards with the standard piano tuned with 24 pitches to the octave. The work is in three continuous movements that explore the possible relationships (“timbral, rhythmic, textural, and harmonic”) between the keyboards.

I have to admit my expectations weren't very high. But what followed was a delightful surprise – it's a wonderful piece, and Tim played the hell out of it. The rhythmic interplay between the keyboards (live and recorded) in the first movement (Motus perpetuus) was so animated, and after the first couple of minutes, the microtonality sounded (surprisingly) perfectly natural. The second movement (Musica ornata) was somewhat melodic and lyrical, and the third (Passacaglia) brought back motives from the first two through a series of variations (I think). A great performance of a darn good piece.

La valée des cloches (The valley of bells) from Ravel's Miroirs was next, and after the Gordon piece, it was an amazing contrast. So plaintive and evocative, it sounded like music from another planet.

Tim ended the concert with Brahms's huge F minor sonata. Yep, a masterpiece; yep, he played it well. Quite well . . . but I'm still not a big fan of Brahms.

After the recital, I asked Tim what he was planning to do next, and he said he was going to take a year off, "to read the books I want to read and study the music I want to study." I wish I would have been that bold. Good for him.

**********

On a completely different note, it's been quite a while since I've been on a rural college campus, and Wheaton College was wonderfully peaceful that night. It’s a lovely – almost bucolic – campus with brick-paved sidewalks and lots of trees. It was just getting dark as I made my way over to the recital hall and there were just a few students walking around. Exactly what you would expect.

But I couldn’t help but think of the events at Virginia Tech the day before. It was at the front of my mind because it had been everywhere in the media. Just listening to the radio, watching television, seeing the papers, reading the news online – it had been impossible to avoid.

And impossible not to be affected by it.

up the down staircase

The quest for home improvement continues.

Ever since I moved in, the stairs going down to the basement have made me a bit nervous. Of course, the dogs had absolutely no fear tearing up and down, but it was always a bit disconcerting to see the look of semi-terror on a guest's face as they clutched on to the rickety banister and stepped gingerly.

Well, no more. Hired a carpenter, cleared out on Saturday for a few hours, and now heading downstairs is a little less treacherous.

Could my home life get any more exciting?

Sharry Baby

So, I've officially entered a new phase of green-thumbed geekdom by joining Hausermann's orchid-of-the-month club!

I've had pretty good luck with a few phalaenopsis varieties (actually of the six I have right now, four are blooming -- but more on that later), but I've been wanting to expand my horizons.

Anyway, the first one arrived last week and has just started blooming! It's a Sharry Baby oncidium, and already about twenty blooms have opened. Too bad my digital photography skills can't do it justice.

Here's a closeup of a bloom (and no, I don't take credit for this photo). So tiny, but so spectacular.

Stay tuned, orchid fans . . .

can't we just get some sleep?

good Friday

Holy week makes me feel a bit melancholy – the services, the readings, and of course, the music. In fact, the music during the week – especially on Good Friday – is so wonderfully reflective that I feel that by the time we get to Easter Sunday and hear all this happy stuff in major keys, it is somewhat of a letdown.

My favorite Good Friday memory is from almost ten years ago. As usual, I had booked myself to capacity with gigs; and adding to the intensity of the week, my friend and AIDS Ride partner Todd had been in the hospital for about ten days and wasn’t doing all that well. Even though I had visited him nearly every day, I had not really been able to speak with him much due to his condition.

One of the gigs was a late service on Good Friday at Fourth Presbyterian where I was joining the choir to sing the small part of Pontius Pilate in Arvo Pärt’s setting of the Saint John Passion. Since I only had a couple of lines, there was plenty of time to sit back and absorb the piece. Like Bach’s setting, Pärt’s Passion has Jesus and Pilate as soloists and a chorus as the crowd who ultimately demand the crucifixion of Jesus; however the evangelist (who tells most of the story) is sung by a solo quartet (SATB) rather than a solo tenor in the Bach. There also is a small instrumental ensemble plus organ.

Pärt has the remarkable ability to create several different effects using an extremely simple harmonic language; in this work, all of the solo vocal parts are scored completely in C major. For example in the role of the evangelist, he uses different combinations of the voices, extremes of range, voices crossing each other, etc.; but even though the only notes heard are in the C major scale, you rarely hear an actual C major chord.

The most amazing section is near the end when Jesus is on the cross and has just said, "I thirst." The evangelist describes the soaking of the sponge in vinegar and Jesus drinking. Then Jesus sings his final words – "It is finished" – and descends to a low A, the lowest note he has yet sung. The solo quartet sings in unison for the first time, also on an A, "And he bowed his head, and gave up the Holy Ghost."

Then after a pause, the chorus enters on D major – and after over an hour in C major, it’s as if the lights have suddenly been turned on – and concludes the work singing the text "You, who have suffered for us, have mercy upon us, Amen." It’s such a simple idea, but so wonderfully dramatic in the context of the rest of the work.

**********

After the service, I was heading home and contemplated stopping by to see Todd. However, visiting hours were almost over, it had been a long day, and parking would be impossible; but what the hell, I swung by and found a rock star parking space right by the entrance. The duty nurses knew me by then, so even though it was late, they let me in.

Todd had been fading in and out of a morphine fog for more than a week, so I wasn’t really expecting to do more than just sit with him for a bit. I walked into his room and was completely taken aback – sitting up and looking out the window, he turned his head and said, "hey, Frank." We talked and talked, and I stayed until well after midnight.

That was a good Friday.

happy holy week

The beginning of holy week reminds me of one of Erik's favorite sayings:

"Dear God . . . if a carpenter already died for our sins, why did you have to take Karen?"






And borrowing an idea from fellow blogger Chris, here's a picture of one of my hellebores (also known as Lenten roses), almost ready to bloom right on schedule. I got them a couple of years ago after attending a little seminar at Gethsemane. And if I remember correctly, hellebores are supposed to have lots of medicinal uses and have also been used in witchcraft. Regardless, they grow really well in the shade in the backyard.

non-photogenic

It shouldn't be that difficult to get a good picture of the dogs. It's a never-ending quest . . .

my dinner with Ken

My good friend Ken came over for dinner tonight and agreed to be my guinea pig . . .

For Christmas, Andrew and Erik gave me a gift certificate for The Wooden Spoon, and a couple of weeks ago I took a vegetarian Italian cooking class there. We made several things in class, including a mushroom risotto that I had been wanting to try on my own. I modified the recipe a bit using a vegetable stock and about half of the mushrooms, adding asparagus, and loading it with extra Grana Padano (a parmesan).

As Ken watched me stumble around the kitchen, we enjoyed a Gouda and a Jarlsberg (a baby Swiss).


Well, the risotto didn't quite turn out perfect . . . guess I need a little more practice. Maybe another guinea pig. Or two.

Roxie & Theo

Here's Roxie and Theo on the back porch, late last summer. Roxie looks a bit peeved, but I think the sun was just in her eyes. Theo was about eight months old at the time, and this was a rare moment of repose.

More photos to come . . .