It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#3 - Pursuing your passion clashes big time with your personality.


I probably wouldn't make a great Trappist monk. Although the life fascinates me. Simplicity. Quiet. Focus.

I remember seeing a 60 Minutes piece on Thomas Merton, probably the most famous Trappist monk of all (if one can or should label a monk "famous.") He had fascinating things to say, and I read his book The Seven Storey Mountain not long afterwards.

But I know I wouldn't make a good Trappist monk for one reason: I'm a raging extrovert. A huge "E" on the Meyers-Briggs profile. I not only "get" energy from other people, I can feel it coming in. I don't want to be the center of attention, and I don't need to be onstage. But put me in an enclosed office for hours at a time, and I shut down. My brain ceases to function - all creativity goes right out the window.

And isn't that a major portion of a Trappist monk's life? Deep introspection, silence (or should I say lack of conversation)?

Sure, we all want and crave a certain amount of calm and rest in our lives. But if I were to pursue that as my passion, well, then passion would drain out of my life.

But I'm going to read The Seven Storey Mountain again. I've still got my copy. And one of the neat things about getting older? You don't have to buy as many books, since you forget what was in many of them...

#1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move.)

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#2 - You and your passion have a long distance relationship (and you aren't willing to move).

I thought I wanted to be a screenwriter. I wrote plays for 7 years, and even had one produced in Los Angeles. I met actors I'd seen on television, now playing the roles I wrote. It was all very exciting. So I started writing screenplays. But I live in DC. I briefly considered moving to LA - I even spent some time there, getting my bearings, seeing what it's like..

Trouble was, I REALLY didn't like it. I remember looking at the Hollywood Hills one evening, at the lights coming on in the cliff-dwelling homes, and I thought "I don't want that."

In my DC neighborhood, I walk to work, the gym, grocery stores, restaurants. In LA, I'd have to drive. In DC, I leave my house a few minutes before I have to be just about anywhere. In LA, I'd have to leave my apartment maybe an hour beforehand, and figure out the shortest drive to where I wanted to go. In DC, I have all this extra time, given to me because I don't have to commute. In LA, it would be all about the commute.

For a screenwriter, it's also all about the networking. In Hollywood. Not in DC. And it's really difficult if you're not living in LA.

Not that you have to move to where your passion resides, if it's geographically important. But I've found that distance can be a critical factor in deciding what I want to do with my life.

And I'm still living in DC.

Read Part 1: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

It May Not Be Your Passion If:

#1 - You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

For years I've heard "do what you love," and "follow your bliss," and "find your passion."

But what's my passion? What happens if it changes? How do I know if I should quit and do something else?

I've thought about those questions - over and over. And I've come up with some ways to measure for myself whether or not what I'm doing is REALLY what I want to do. Hence, #1: It may not be your "passion" if: You're in love with the idea of your passion, but you can't stand the component parts.

No matter what you do, no matter how exciting your passion may be, there are going to be portions of it that aren't all that interesting. Still, they shouldn't grind you down. I believe that you don't have to absolutely love everything about your dream, but those "grunt work" parts should still do something for you. Let's say mountain biking is your passion. What are the component parts? Well, you have to know about the bike's technical aspects (how much air in the tires, what type of tire for what terrain, what the bike's made of), along with safety concerns (types of helmets, other protective clothing and accessories), and where to ride (what time of year is the best, how crowded is it, how long does it take to get there.) If you say you love love love mountain biking, but bikes and fitness and terrains just bore you to tears, that may be telling you something.

I'll be posting these from time to time, and when I get to the last one, I'll include the entire list. I've come up with fifteen of these statements... who knows how long this will take!

There Comes One Of Them Now!
Turner Classic Movies is running a Guest Programmer contest. All you need to do is create a short video explaining why you should be chosen as Guest Programmer for an evening of movies on TCM and you might just win. Funny how they don't ask you what movies you'd pick. So I've gone ahead and NOT produced a video, and selected the movies I'd screen if I was chosen:

Because it's the greatest movie ever made.

Because it's out of its mind.

Because it's intensely frightening, hugely influential, and made for about $7.00.

Because it's the most underrated movie musical of the sixties.

It's About Joy
Fascinating article in Sunday's New York Times (titled "Seeking Fans, Ballet Scrambles for a Killer App") about the role of ballet in modern American culture, and the financial/artistic struggles of ballet companies in New York City and across the country. The article lists the usual tactics arts institutions employ to bring in audiences: "Girls Night Out" at the New York City Ballet, offering dessert and "girl talk" with ballerinas; newly-minted ballets featuring tried-and-true stories from other media like "Peter Pan" and "Dracula." I say "usual" because I read about this kind of thing all the time. Instead of trying to understand how to appeal to the customer when the customer says "I don't like or need what you offer," the institutions merely ape popular culture, and nobody wins.

But a quote by Italian choreographer Luca Veggeti really set my head spinning: “You have companies saying, ‘We have to do Peter Pan and Dracula,’ ” he added, laughing. “What is the point? You’re not like a TV program. You’re supposed to raise the cultural level of your audience."

I have never
never
NEVER
gone to any artistic performance to raise my cultural level.

I have always gone because I wanted to see something amazing, hear something incredible, or experience something transforming.

NEVER NEVER NEVER TO RAISE MY CULTURAL LEVEL OR AWARENESS!

I went to school for that.

While My Guitar Gently Weeps
The Washington Post story DC's commuters ignoring virtuoso violinist Joshua Bell as he played his rarified Stradivarius in the DC Metro during morning rush hour has generated much silliness among the online marketing pundits. I say "silliness" because, the way they're carrying on, you'd think this was a rigorous scientific experiment.

But it wasn't. It was merely a guy playing a violin in the subway. Something we've all seen before.

I'd like to see the experiment repeated, this time with P Diddy, Jennifer Lopez, or Clay Aiken doing some platform performing at 7:30 am. I think the results would be quite different. I bet there'd be a dangerous crush of people, and rush hour would slam to a halt.

Favorite TV Guys
I used to include this sort of thing in this blog, but I got away from it as the months went on. Still, I just want to take a moment and identify the guys currently on TV who make me stop zapping the channels. I might not watch the entirety of any show they're on (except SVU), but they do give me pause...

Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs
Cleans up like a dream.





Chris Meloni of SVU
A barely stable(r) character.




Bear Grylls of Man vs. Wild
Who knew misery could be so much fun.





John Cena of WWE/Raw
You feared him in high school, but not anymore.

RE: Do "Straight" Bloggers Read "Gay" Blogs?
Many thanks to Dustin and Steve for not only reading my post on this subject (as they were quoted in it), but for taking the time to respond in the comments section. It seems that we're all pretty much thinking the same way! I could get all philosophical at this point and launch into a major wordfest about how the differences we seem to find in other people really tells each of us more about our own fears (and my fears I know all too well)... but it's finally spring in DC and it's Friday and we all want to go outside and celebrate the weekend. Thanks again, Dustin and Steve, for your thoughtful dialog on the subject!!

It Was Never About The Hills

I came to a major decision over the past weekend.

First, I'll set up the scene.

I was moving pretty quickly through the first act of my zombie movie's fourth draft, ruthlessly cutting line after line of text. And it suddenly hit me: I was bored doing this. Not procrastination-bored as in "I really feel like doing something else." Not dramatically-bored as in "this story is dull and not interesting me at all." But bored as in "I'm sitting here in front of my laptop, actively editing and re-arranging characters, dialogue and action, and I'm bored with the whole thing. Bored with dreams of being a screenwriter. No longer interested in visioning the movie as it might someday play on the screen. Tired of thinking I'll someday be able to look up my name on IMDB."

So I did the only thing I could do at that moment. I stopped writing. And I spent the next hour or so really looking at this "dream" of mine, which I've carried since I was a kid. And I could see that, while I've changed in those forty or so years, the dream itself has not. It's been been years of dreaming about attention (getting it), ego (building it), and rescue (as in "money.") The dream hasn't grown, hasn't morphed, and hasn't done anything but lay there and demand my attention when I'm trying to do just about anything else.

Now the dream has become a whiny, nagging partner, using fear tactics to keep my attention. "You'll die a mediocre person," it intimates. "You'll be totally uninteresting if you stop."

So, I'll be uninteresting, and I'll die mediocre, I told it. I decided that I would no longer write screenplays.

Suddenly, the whiny annoying voice of my "dream" had nowhere to gain traction. It kind of just layed there, powerless. And I felt... calm.

The Paradox of Time
Does this ever happen to you: It's Friday, and you look ahead to Saturday or Sunday and see a large block of time that you haven't designated for anything, and you think "I can fill that with some really quality writing time or research or working out at the gym!"

You look forward to it, you may even arrange your workspace or gather your gym clothes the night before. The weekend comes, and starting at 2pm (if that's the time you designated), you suddenly find something else you need to do. But you feel guilty.

Still, the guilt doesn't move you to your work space or the weights. The spark that was present those nights before just isn't there. Let's say you finally open up the file, look at the words glowing in front of you, or make it to the gym, but your body feels like the gun's gone off in the 100 yard dash, Literally. And you jump up out of your chair and head for the fridge or say "20 minutes on the elliptical machine should do it for today!"

One of my brothers described this very sort of thing when he had his first kid (my first nephew.) "I think of all these great things I can do, I can get done, once he's down for his nap," my brother said. "But when he's finally out, all I want to do is sit in a chair and turn into broccoli."

Life Intrusion
I look at the date of my last post - April 8 - five whole days. Might as well be a year, in blog time! I wonder, what should I say? How about a run down on the places I've been spending my creativity? Allright. Here's what I've been up to:

Developing a new blog, one focused on a small, niche audience.
Updating my resume, for my upcoming "Marketing Mike Initiative."
Writing my screenplay (EM:ZD, the zombie movie, 4th draft).
Investigating screenwriter blogs.

I've got a table covered with papers, and papers covered with notes. I wonder if I'm attempting too many things at once, and then I remember how I work best, in short, intense bursts of energy, alternated with brain-clearing physical activity like working out, biking, or just getting outdoors.

Shoe Movies
I watched "The Pursuit of Happyness" last night, and it was definitely more uplifting than "Children of Men." I really liked both, and I noticed something similar about these two movies:

They both had plot moments involving the main character's lack of shoes at critical times.

Is this my coincidence, or their's?

Spring Is Broken
It's cold here in DC, I read that the Cherry Blossoms have blown off the trees, it snowed last night and I'm not feeling creative. My toes and fingers are cold. So it was probably not a good idea to watch "Children of Men" (pictured) this afternoon, but I did. It was fascinating. I'm saving "The Pursuit of Happyness" for tonight, after the sun goes down. I'm hoping it's a bit more uplifting.

Do Straight Bloggers Read "Gay" Blogs
Lately, I've been wondering about my tag line: Life in DC, Comments on Culture, Hunting the Elusive Male. Especially in regards to hunting for a new job, which I will have to do starting in May.

I'm seeing my blogging as an online example of my writing, as well as a clue to my personality. I'm thinking of including it in my job search, as it also shows my understanding of how web sites work (or don't!)

But - I'm also wondering if potential employers would be put off if they find out I'm Gay right off the bat.

I know that any employer is going to have to find out soon after they hire me, as I'm not going to pretend to be someone I'm not. I did that for a number of years and as a way of living a life, it basically rots.

Straight people don't have to worry about this sort of thing - our society is arranged so that the classic "male & female" couple style is primarily assumed by just about everyone. So if you're a guy married to a girl (or the other way around), legally divorced or separated, or dating a member of the opposite sex, that's deeply ingrained in so many psyches as "normal."

I feel, however, that blogging adds so much of a personal touch, that it's imperative I include a little something about my life that takes up such a big space in it.

I did have an interesting (and highly educational) experience just a few minutes ago, which proves that I can make have the same knee-jerk reactions I'm worried others might have.

I visited a couple of sites I find interesting: Dustin Staiger's Casual Fridays and Steve Wilson's Waypoint. Today being Good Friday, each had a post referencing the day within the scope of his belief (not sure if that's grammatical, but who cares?)

Anyway, I immediately thought "Whoa, Dustin and Steve, they're both talking about their religious belief in the middle of their blogs on branding and corporate communications and the like! I'm not sure how I feel about that!" (Full disclosure point: I was brought up and confirmed Catholic...)

Then I was immediately smacked with my own voice, inside my head, telling me "Um, aren't you doing the same thing?" AND aren't you applying a double standard here if you don't understand where these bloggers are coming from?"

Yup. I was. After realizing I'm capable of the same kind of thinking I fear in others, I now know that it's a fantastic thing these two bloggers let me know where they come from.

Zombie Tales
Argh. Tuesday afternoon was gorgeous - warm, clear, sunny. I took my laptop out to the corner cafe and sat down in a perfect spot, flipped open the screen and started to work on "The Zombie Movie* where I had left off.

Since this is the fourth draft, I'm at the point where I go through the script from the beginning, look at each scene, each character, each line of dialog and make it the absolute best that it can be. No more playing around with characters persuading each other to action. Now they need to "just do it," make a decision, stop fooling around. Clear, sharp actions, all wedded to what each person wants in every scene. This also includes a heavy amount of editing. I'm definitely at the point where I can look at a scene and actually see where it needs to end. And sometimes that end point happens in the middle of the scene. I hit the delete button and hold it down as I obliterate line after line. This is all to make the script move, like lightning.

Then this sharp pain jabbed me, inside my right temple, behind my right eye. I thought it would go away at first, so I just kept typing. But it didn't.

I figured it was some kind of migraine (which I get every five years or so.) But they usually announce themselves with some kind of visual disturbance. This time, it was just the pain.

I finished my drink and actually got some dialog written, but the pain was far too annoying to work through. I had to go home.

"Rats!" I thought. "Gorgeous afternoon, great seat at the outdoor cafe, ruined." The pain lasted a full two days. I've been under a bunch of stress, especially at work. So I wasn't surprised I was felled in this manner.

At least it wasn't an aneurysm! I've taken tomorrow off, so I will hopefully be able to get some more work done, even though the weather's taken a retreat back into winter.

Down and Dirty
Need a break from "The Secret" and the law of attraction and the ever-popular positive thinking? Catch any one of these five Cynical Cinema masterpieces (showing often on Turner Classic Movies.) They're perfect for those times when you just have to think really negative thoughts. When you look at the world and all you can see are the soggy, grimy Starbucks cups flattened in the gutter. The sky's overcast, the temperature's 50 degrees, and the only colors you can see are grey, whitish-grey, darkish grey, and brown.

A Face in the Crowd
Andy Griffith as ne'er-do-well parasite Lonesome Rhodes, championed by Patricia Neal into a plain talking, tobacco-chawin', heartland-born good-old-boy. He becomes a success and gains power, but his abrasiveness gets played out on larger and larger stages. Until, of course, The End.

The Sweet Smell of Success (pictured)
Burt Lancaster plays powerful New York City columnist J.J. Hunsecker, who holds court in Times Square clubs and bars. He's the center of a society that values who you know over what you actually do. But Burt's holding a ton of stuff inside, and it isn't pretty. Not at all.

Ace in the Hole (AKA "The Big Carnival")
Kirk Douglas plays slimy newspaper reporter Chuck Tatum, who deliberately stalls rescue efforts saving a man trapped in a cave, just to drive up the story, get it played nationwide, and make himself successful. This is the movie that got me thinking about this post, when I saw it a couple of weeks ago. Awesome final shot.

Kiss Me Deadly
Ralph Meeker plays sleazy LA private investigator Mike Hammer, who gets a lead on something big... REALLY big. He doesn't know what it is, but that doesn't matter. He dominates his way through the movie, abusing people left and right, until the end. That's when he gets burned.

The Apartment
Jack Lemmon plays monolithic NYC insurance firm gruntworker C.C. Baxter, who "sublets" his apartment nightly to married executives who promises him promotions just so they have a place to entertain their "dates." And when Jack gets the success he strives for, it comes with a whole lot of extra baggage. However, this one does have a quasi-happy ending.

These 5 flicks that show us at our most negative. All are in black and white, from the fifties/early sixties, and feature main characters see lying, cheating and stealing as too tame. Basically, these movies are primers on how NOT to get ahead!

Don't Be An April Fool
Online humor is tough. When email started to catch on, everyone noticed that messages tended to sound more terse and dismissive than ordinary speech or formal business letters. Emoticons cropped up as a method of softening chatter =) and identifying text meant to be humorous.

Today I came across a couple of blogs that are dealing with online April foolishness. The ultra-famous Seth Godin posted a piece criticizing online retailer Archie McPhee for offering a "baby parachute." While the item screams out "April Fools Sucker!" (and the comment confirms this), I agree with Seth. It's irresponsible to offer a potentially dangerous product, even if it doesn't exist.

Copyblogger's "Greatest Link Attraction Strategy Ever" is clearly a joke, although gullible me took it for serious until I remembered what day it is. Will someone try to fake their own death online? Probably. However, it's disturbing to see, in light of the current trouble with a well-known blogger receiving death threats, and so much opportunity for anonymity and misrepresentation on the Internet(s).

Why go to all this trouble in search of cleverness? Search me. These are hoaxes, and there are plenty of them going around - think about all the email virus messages, or that often repeated tale of LSD on public phones. The trouble with hoaxes? They just aren't funny. Couple this fact with that tendency for online communication to seem more serious than it might be, and there's just too much room for trouble.

Atlantis Events created a bogus Web page last year at this time, offering a cruise to Denver, Colorado. It was actually kind of funny, although anyone who hadn't experienced one of their vacations would likely miss out on the joke. And this kind of corporation humor can backfire in odd ways. I remember a selling point for this impossible vacation - "dine in any one of seven separate restaurants, all offering the same food!" That's actually the case on cruise ships.

Sometimes, when going for the ridiculous, we end up getting nearer the truth than we realize!

Zombie Tales
I took my laptop out to the corner "mom and pop" coffee place recently and actually started on draft #4 of Zombie Movie. I've had this dynamite opening scene in my head for over a year, and in the pre-seasonal warm weather we've been having, I was able to get it down on paper - I mean, on laptop screen and saved in a file.

I also experienced a strange sensation while doing it, one that I've forgotten about in the context of writing. The only way to explain it is to compare it to working out. You know how you feel if you've been away from the gym for a couple of weeks and then get over your inertia and show up - only to find that your muscles protest against lifting and pushing weights around? And the protest with a kind of creaking pain?

That's the sensation, only it was in my head. It actually hurt to write. Bizarre. But I did get five pages written, and most of what I wrote conformed to what has been sitting in my brain for the longest time.

Now if work would just calm down and quit being so exhausting I can then write some more...

A Real Life Place
I spent all morning in a hearing on Capitol Hill today, and developed a headache that felt like railroad spikes driving into my skull. After a couple of ibuprofen, the pain subsided. I'm glad I don't have to go there very often, just enough to make me what politics are like!

In the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's, Audrey Hepburn says to George Peppard:

If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name.

And I asked myself: what place makes me feel like Tiffany's? Certainly not Capitol Hill. Without over-analyzing exactly what Tiffany's is supposed to make one feel like in this context, I came up with the following:

1. Mt. Washington (although it can be deadly.)
2. Route 50 (driving east across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge on 6pm on a summer Friday.)
3. In front of any pair of speakers playing Ravel's Le Tombeau de Couperin.
4. Barcelona (although I've only been there once.)

Other than that, there aren't any more. But maybe that's the point.

Oh yeah, I also started writing draft #4 of Kickass Zombie Movie.

Out Before You Hit The Ball
Been checking out some mind-expanding articles on design - how design is moving out from the exclusive territory of industry, fashion, architecture, and into conversations, politics, education. Why things are designed that sound bad, and why they can't be designed to sound good. And I thought about HRC's phone call, looking for me to donate money.

First, links to the cool places that have stirred my thinking:
Metacool's Sound Matters (the briefest post);
Bruce Nussbaum's "Are Designers The Enemy of Design?" in BusinessWeek
Logic+Emotion's "Designers Are The Enemy of Design."

Next, how the recent call started:
"Hello, may I speak to Mike A-."
"This is Mike."
"How are you this evening? My name is [fundraiser x] and I'm calling on behalf of HRC..."

Design-wise, this call is set up to fail. HRC only calls me for money. They may think the conversation's designed to foster my generosity, but since I've so familiar with this "design," it builds my skepticism instead. The conversation's opening gambit puts me on the defensive. "I'm calling on behalf of HRC" is designed to make me say "I'm sorry, I'm not able to donate at this time."

There's probably a document in front of the fundraiser, some kind of flowchart that shows the conversation's possible designs, which gives him ways to keep the conversation going. I think the caller tried to engage me further by mentioning something about HRC's work. However, telling me what I already know about the gay community's struggle for rights will not prime me for action.

So the batter is out before the ball even crosses the plate.

First step toward hitting a home run? Change the design of that conversation - maybe by starting with that sheet of paper in front of the caller.

On Creating Stuff and Making Things Happen
Singer-songwriter Christine Kane has on her blog a fantastic and wise post titled "Getting Discovered, Getting Discouraged, and Getting a Clue." It's essential reading for anyone trying to get "somewhere" via any number of creative and/or artistic endeavors, especially those of us who work on these things in our off-hours. With a 70 degree afternoon here in DC and Christine's words of encouragement, I'm once again feeling the itch to open up my laptop and work on Kickass Zombie Movie's fourth draft. As soon as I finish this blog entry.

Christine's advice spins out under the following headings:

Be real.
The Law of Attraction.
Work at your craft.
Stop waiting for permission, rescue or discovery. (my favorite)
Leap and the net will appear.
Work at the business.
Overwhelm happens.
and
Naysayers suck. But they’re there. Deal with it.

I've been in the dark aura of the naysayers she describes. But when I get right down and look at it, I've much more often found myself bolstered by people who have not only taken an interest in my writing, they've financed, worked long hours, and committed themselves to spreading the visions of my characters in wider and wider venues. Which means I need to really just finished that Zombie fourth draft!!

Short Circuit
I attempted to post last night, but I couldn't finish my thoughts. I'm experiencing a steep learning curve at work on some computer and networking items, and yesterday my head was jammed with all kinds of numbers and speeds and server types and... well, my circuits fried. It's fascinating to me that subjects I like or feel an affinity toward just float right into my understanding, while I have to work at areas of expertise I've never gravitated toward. But that's probably the way it is for most people. Today I could feel my nerve cells start to heal, and tomorrow's Thursday so the end of the week is not too far away!

Tips On Soliciting Mike
HRC called me a few nights ago. I knew right off the bat they weren't calling me for an opinion though. No, it was your basic fundraising phone call. I usually don't give money via the phone, and tonight was no exception. I still feel sorry for the guy on the other end, and I can see him, rapidly going down the list of things to say when the potential donor on the other end tries to cut the call short. He got to "you do realize the important work HRC is doing on the Hill and across the country to gain rights for gay and lesbian citizens..." or something to that effect. But I just cut him off: "I'm not able to contribute anything at this time. Sorry." And I hung up.

According to Donor Power Blog, the main reason fundraising efforts fail is because the organization talks about itself, and not the potential donor (in this case, me.) I've been thinking about how the conversation could have gone differently, and why exactly I don't donate to HRC. And I've come up with some possible ways for HRC to approach me in the future.

1. Tell me up front on the phone call that you're not looking for money, but you want to know how I feel on a particular subject, like maybe General Pace's recent comments on Gays in America.

2. Verify my address and say you'll be sending along a card in case I would like to donate.

3. Ask me if there are any reasons why I wouldn't want to donate to HRC.

4. Tell me you know I live four blocks from HRC's headquarters, and find out if I A) have ever been in the building, B) talked to anyone from HRC, and C) would like to attend a function in the near future.

5. Find out how I relate to the issues HRC advocates for, such as "Protecting Gay and Lesbian Families," "Gay Marriage," or "the Military's Don't Ask Don't Tell Policy."

6. Let me know you're sponsoring speed dating in the neighborhood.

Truth be told, there's probably no good way to solicit me over the phone. I'm not even sure #6 would work. But I did go to the HRC site after I hung up, as I was curious about how the organization could involve me. I clicked on "Events," and was taken to a page giving "Events in Your Area." I clicked on Washington, DC. Here's what I found.

I think I did mention how close I live to HRC's national headquarters...

And A Rock Feels No Pain
This week, the Washington Post's health section ran a number of articles all about men. I gravitated to "The Masculine Singular: Social Isolation Is Hazardous to Men's Health, but Many Find It Hard to Open Up." At my age, I find it harder and harder to meet people who aren't already coupled. So I thought the article might have some thoughts on what to do about the whole problem. After spotlighting some Harvard research showing social isolation is hazardous to a man's health (who knew?), the article gave these options for venturing off that deserted island:

Join a group;
Take a chance (i.e., open up to another guy);
Consider women (as friends);
Get married (um, I can't, legally);
Remember, you're not alone (kinda hard, when that's the problem!);
Be a man (and courageously deal with whatever emotional problems you have).

I finished the article, yet felt I hadn't learned much. I did feel that the article was a bit heterosexist, laying out solutions that would work for a straight guy (like the marriage idea), without taking into account the fact that gay men may feel just as isolated, if not more so. DC's got a large gay male population, and it's not a stretch to predict that a couple of those guys read the article. You may see a few of these guys dining alone, if you walk by Annie's on 17th street on any evening around 6pm or so.

I further found it odd that the Post would run the article online, along with the others in the series, graced by a perfectly muscular shirtless torso (photo detail above, next to this post's title), which would definitely catch the eyes of gay men - and maybe even some straight women.

So what are the options for a guy like me?

Whatever Happened to Personal Training
I spent much of 2006 in the massive, capable, and torturing hands of personal trainers at my gym. I haven't totalled the exact amount of money I spent last year on having experts tell me what weights to lift and for how many reps. But it's surely in the thousands of dollars. And while I really didn't achieve my (ridiculously) high personal goals, I did achieve something. I realized, once and for all, that to be massive with non-massive genetics, you need illegal help.

But that's a step I was unwilling to take. So here I am, back to working out on my own. I'm the same weight I was last year at this time. I think I'm going through some kind of withdrawal, in that I'm finding it tough to get motivated to actually go to the gym. Last year, it was the money I was paying, along with the knowledge that I really didn't have to think once I got there, that kept me going and going and going.

But I have noticed one thing now that I'm back to working out by myself. I can concentrate better and get into a zen-like (like I know what zen is all about) state when lifting. Whether that's just because nobody's watching me now, or because I've actually progressed somewhere in my workouts, is hard to tell.

One thing for sure. If I don't go back to the gym, all last year will definitely be for nothing.

What I've Learned from Writing Scripts
After ten years of seriously writing plays and screenplays, I've not only learned some lessons from the activity, I've also internalized some aspects of the profession and turned them into ways of progressing through life. A number of these lessons came together in my head over the past few days, and I took the time to write them down:

1. Chronic passivity gets you only so far. One of the biggest things I had to get past when I started is a problem many writers face - that of the passive main character. A character that watches, while everybody else goes around doing things. Once I started making my main characters not only do things but take chances, things took off. And I did too.

2. Creation happens at the cellular level. That means you don't have to write the script all at once. You don't even have to write a scene all at once. Sondheim, in Sunday in the Park With George, writes "bit by bit, building up the image." And that, for me at least, is the way it happens.

3. It's never going to be perfect. It can't be. Ever. So don't even try... well, you can try, but don't let that mess with the next lesson:

4. Meet your deadlines. And those others set for you - especially directors and theaters. If I know I have to deliver a script to a director by a certain date, I make sure I've set myself up with enough time to get it to the point where I can say "OK, it's as good as it's gonna be, for now," and then hand it off. And when I do, I always:

5. Resist the urge to make excuses for anything I deliver. You know what I'm talking about. Handing over a work and saying "it's just ok, if I had some more time, I was thinking of doing, I'm really just starting out, it's only a fifth draft." Say those in your head, and let them stay there. Then later, when the feedback comes at you:

6. Don't balk at criticism. And don't argue with it either. There have been numerous times I've received criticism from others that go against everything I'm thinking - and then reveal themselves to be fantastic ideas that, once put in place, shoot the work to a much higher level. When that work's at a higher level, though, remember:

7. What you say about someone else's work - might come back and be said about your's. Before I really started writing plays that people took seriously, I ripped movies and shows apart in conversations. Then, when I saw my stuff onstage, I wondered how many people in the audience were going to do the same thing I often did. And once I modulated myself, I experienced something strange:

8. The things I thought were funny sometimes weren't, and the things I thought wouldn't work sometimes did. And it's fun to be surprised that way. Which brings me to my favorite:

9. Sometimes it's not about putting words down, it's about taking them away. AKA editing.

Kind of a long post. Maybe I should follow my advice in #9 and remove some

The Ghaytto Evaporates
I've lived in Dupont Circle for about 18 years now. I've seen the neighborhood's gentrification, which halted at 16th street when I first moved down here, expand to 14th and beyond as the years have gone by. So it was with particular interest that I read QueerSighted's post on "Death of the Gayborhood." Richard Rothstein mainly discusses the New York City scene, but the things he says about it are pretty much true for DC. Although on a smaller scale. Isn't that always the case?

Here in my neighborhood I see more and more young couples pushing baby strollers these days, although there are still six gay bars on 17th between P and R streets (if you count Annie's as a gay bar.) The 14th and P intersection is now packed with nightlife, offering a number of "mixed clientele" restaurants along with two bars. When I moved here, that area was just abandoned buildings and old old old neighborhood stores.

What do I think about the "death of the gayborhood?" A number of things...

Neighborhoods change all over - it doesn't matter who inhabits them. They change. They're gonna change.
The relative comfort I feel on the streets of Dupont with my friends may not be immediately transferrable to another locale - like, say Woodbridge, VA - for awhile.
It's terribly limiting, not to mention paradoxical, to live in an enclosed space of any kind in order to feel "free."
It still takes a special kind of non-gay person who feels comfortable in a gay bar or one catering to a "mixed" clientele.
There are still plenty of people out there who would make it hard for us to genuinely mix in some neighborhoods. Just look at how easy it is for us to get married in the USA.

Thanks, Maria Palma!
...for providing a link to my positive customer service snippets in your blog post "Good Customer Service Stories: Spreading the Good Vibes." Maria writes the "Customers Are Always" blog, a fantastic place to visit if you're at all interested in the kind of service you receive in stores, restaurants, hotels and many other places. I first read about Maria's blog in the September 2006 Fast Company article "Self-Serving." Customers Are Always was one of three "service" blogs reviewed. I took a look at it and immediately added it to my list of blogs I visit. Maria runs her blog for customer service professionals, and I find her perspective compelling. And I'm not even involved in customer service... except as a customer! Thanks again, Maria, for the recognition!

Living in DC - Some snippets of good customer service
I've complained for awhile about the lousy customer service I've gotten over the past few months. Now it's time for me to talk about some good experiences I've had recently.

It Was Easy: My cordless phone broke, and the manufacturer seemed to think it was the battery. I wasn't so sure. I went to Staples south of Dupont Circle and asked an employee what he thought the problem might be. "You know," he said, "if you buy the battery and that's not the problem, you have 14 days to bring it back." I didn't even have to ask. It turned out the phone was broken - and the new battery didn't help. I took it back and they immediately refunded my money. It was easy.

Invisible to the Customer: I'm Wi-Fi-ing my laptop. My awesome computer guy at work suggested some routers and where to purchase them online. I went to Pricegrabber and ordered one from TigerDirect. I didn't put any special rush on it. That was Monday night. It got to my condo yesterday afternoon!

...and one that's not really "customer service" but just a message from a really nice guy:

Personal Training: I got an email last night from PD, my personal trainer at Gold's for most of last year. He was transferred to another gym near the end of August. Something had reminded him of me and he wanted to know if I was still hitting the gym and hoped everything was going well.

Now I'm just hoping that the Gods of Marketing and Other Disasters don't feel the need to rain down misery on me for the next few weeks. Especially since I'm currently getting enough of that at work!

What Else Happened At Walter Reed?
The current "Walter Reed" scandal has spurred me to post about what happened at the Walter Reed Annex, about a mile north of DC, during WWII. Wounded military made up the patient list back then, rounded out with a population of soldiers being treated in the psych ward. Also in the psych ward were soldiers waiting to be dishonorably discharged for being gay.

I grew up about a mile away from the Annex, and it wasn't until my late 30's that I heard about this. I saw a PBS documentary - locally produced - about the Annex. A former nurse was interviewed, and I remember her words:

"They used to help us on our rounds, giving out medicine, that kind of thing. They were being discharged, and there was nothing wrong with them."

That quote stayed with me for a long time.

I ended up writing a play about it, set in the Annex - "Dearboy's War." It received an awesome premiere production in Los Angeles a few years back. Chad Allen starred (pictured, with Dave Fofi), along with my cousin. Also in the large, incredibly talented cast was Bruce Solomon, the guy who gets murdered in the first ten minutes of "Foul Play."

I've tried to get it produced again, but the backers stayed away in droves. I ran out of ideas for plays after "Dearboy's War," so I've turned to screenplays, which are a whole lot tougher to get produced. My dream would be to have it done at the Annex itself...

My gut feeling for writing the play - the overriding urge that propelled the words and characters? I thought of those guys in 1942, yanked out of their units, forced to trade their uniforms and status for hospital outfits, trying to keep their hopes up, and no resources to help them out. Not much different from the stories these days coming from the Walter Reed hospital just a few miles away.

Enough About You - What About Me?
Some thoughts on customer satisfaction surveys...
Gold's Gym emailed me a customer satisfaction survey at the end of January. I was getting ready to go on vacation, so I ignored it. The other day, I saw a banner in the gym advertising a new contest they're running with Men's Fitness. I flashed back to the previous contest I entered - "Win a Gold's Gym Workout with John Cena" - and remembered "they never let me know if anybody won that."

Then I thought of the survey, and reasoned "I can at least fill it out BEFORE I start complaining."

I took a look at it a few minutes ago. It's about 12-15 Web pages of questions about what I thought of the facility, the machines, the weights, the staff. I kept clicking through it, not choosing any of the ratings, looking for a question about ME. About 8 pages in, and a couple of pages before the end, I got to those questions. "What part of your body do you most work on," with a list of body parts/muscle groups, and "what are your overall fitness goals. Then the end page, with a box to write in additional feedback.

When I tried to go back to actually fill out the survey, I got the "Thanks for answering the questions" page.

I didn't answer any questions! But I do have these thoughts:

1. Any staff member can walk through the gym and point out the things that work and those needing improvement. You're asking me to do what is basically your job - keep track of the establishment's upkeep. Don't you have standards of operation? If the elliptical machines are squeaking, do you have to wait for a member to let you know about it via email? Can't you walk around at 12 noon and 6pm and see if the two benches have lines of people waiting to use them?

2. The questions about me you're asking via the survey - isn't it a little late for those? I remember a trainer asked them when I joined in early 2005. As did all the other trainers I worked with. I'm not sure what you're going to do with the answers I give online - probably compile them with all the others and draw a chart to show the board of directors: "As you can see by this PowerPoint graph, 87% of our members join to lose weight. That's in keeping with the overall estimation for the years 2005-2009. We recommend that staff continue to ignore members unless they want to sign up for personal training."

3. You ask on one page about personal training - mainly, have I had any experience with trainers there. Um, I spent about $5,000 in 2006 on personal training at your gym, which you kept track of in your computer database - AND YOU DON'T KNOW THIS?!?!?!

4. I may have gotten the exact wording of some of these questions I cite above wrong.
I'd like to go back and make sure I understood them correctly. But, I can't, because I'm now locked out of the survey. (This also goes for if I wanted to go back and change any of my answers.)

5. The final page of the survey states:
Thank you for taking a moment to provide us with feedback regarding your Gold’s Gym membership. Your answers will allow us the opportunity to consider possible enhancements to our facilities, as well as ensure that the service you receive from Gold’s Gym continues to exceed your expectations.
At this point, I'm reading "possible enhancements" as "we have to write the word possible because we can't promise anything," and "exceed your expectations," as "we haven't got a clue as to what your expectations are."

Sorry to be so negative, but I'm reading all this customer service information and I see what the Web is capable of and I spend all this money and still I'm A) expected to do the staff's work, and B) not worthy of any staff member asking me any of those questions in person.

I guess it's because I'm not on the A-List.

Lure of the List
From Erte of Reho comes the question:
Why would anyone want to be an A-Lister?

Money. Power. Fame. But those are the boring reasons. Let's look a little deeper. I think it's because:

1. who doesn't like attention?
2. who doesn't like attention from someone with high (positive) visibility?
3. who doesn't like to feel as the fellow does in the Gaping Void cartoon (above)?

I think that way down deep inside, those of us who dream of the A-List have some very specific wants and needs in mind. Let's take some examples from, let's see - how about the gay community? Entry into the A-List there means:

1. you instantly morph into a "body of death."
2. you acquire a perfect and stunning boyfriend.
3. whatever is currently making you miserable (Saturday nights spent alone, walking into a bar and not knowing a single soul, personal invisibility) is irrevocably banished from your existence.
4. you become haphazardly and irreversibly happy.

Of course, alcohol can mimic a number of the items above, except for #2.

How can you tell if you are desperate to gain entry to the A-List?
1. you suffer from "I want what I can't have" syndrome.
2. you feel "there's a party going on and I'm not invited."
3. you watch E!
4. you're juicing.

But, like all lures, once you're actually caught by the A-List hook, you find yourself pulled in another environment altogether...

Customer Anti-Evangelists
I've been reading some of the fascinating stuff online about Starbuck's Coffee and CEO Howard Schultz's memo in which he states that the "cafes" he's spawned no longer offer the experience they once did.

Commentary on this that has floated to the top of my latte: that there's no place to sit nowadays at a Starbuck's since it's so crowded, and afficianados have to stand in line with soccer moms and teenagers hooked on frappucinos.

And I wonder: all this "Customer Evangelism" stuff, where we who love a product supposedly set out on missions to gain converts to the brand - what happens to the missionary when the company goes off without them?

Do we think twice about going gaga over the next cool thing? Do we emulate the once loyal parishioners who now hate the Catholic Church after they hid the pedophile priest problem and botched communications when the scandal broke?

Do I, as a loyal alumni of Atlantis cruises, cut way back on my influencing others to come along for the ride, for fear of the experience becoming too huge to handle, as the recent Freedom of the Seas cruise threatened to be? (although I did have a fantastic time this year and I've signed up for South America next year...)

Do we become Anti-Evangelists, like the Maestro:

KRAMER: Yeah, ya know you haven't been around for a while.
MAESTRO: Oh yeah, I've been at my house in Tuscany.
KRAMER: Oh Tuscany huh? Hear that Jerry? That's in Italy.
JERRY: I hear it's beautiful there.
MAESTRO: Well if you're thinking of getting a place there don't bother. There's really nothing available.

More About the A-Listers
Mack at The Viral Garden has this to say about A-list bloggers linking to Z-list bloggers:

Hugh's [Gaping Void] exactly right. He has every right to totally ignore any blogger that's not an A-Lister.

But my question is, 'Why in the world would you want to do that?'

When you start deciding which blogger's content is or is not worthy of your attention, based on something as arbitrary as their link count, you aren't hurting them, you're hurting yourself.

Which goes back to my original question: "Why in the world would you want to do that?"

Every time I read something about A-List bloggers and Z-List bloggers, I'm reminded of the same language we use in the gay community -- specifically, the "A-List" gays. I've been to parties full of "A-Listers" and had no fun at all. They're usually not so friendly scenes, and sometimes rather painful to navigate. Filled with people who want you to look up to them, but not engage with them.

Of course, I'm making sweeping generalizations. And I could tell you stories about people who I thought were A-Listers, then entered my life in strange or wonderful or grandly emotional ways.

Still, it's interesting that the concept has taken hold in the blogging community, turning this wide-open space into yet another place where you're ranked by what are ultimately the same old standards.

So I say Hooray for Mack! Generally seen as an A-List blogger, he's helping tear down the barriers we all keep setting up between each other!

Let There Be Light
Yes, this is still my blog titled "krooz." And yes, I have changed my blog design. For one simple reason - the black background was getting too oppressive. Although I did like the way the pictures popped against the dark. But I have to remember: it's about the content, not the pictures. (Unless I start a photo blog... which probably won't happen anytime in the near future.)

All About The List
"Do A-Listers have a responsibility to link to Z-Listers?" I think not. Even if you've got a huge amount readers, it's your blog, not the blogosphere's blog." Gaping Void

On the January/February Atlantis cruise, one couple caught quite a bit of attention at dances and dinners. One of the guys was tall, goodlooking, muscular, dark wavy hair. You know the type. The other one was good looking too - and much much shorter. You never saw one without the other. And the prevailing question among us all was: "What's the exact nature of this relationship?"

We came up with that question because they were odd, because we in the gay community are so used to seeing couples that are composed of guys who pretty much reflect each other. Bears with bears. Muscle guys with muscle guys. Young with young. Older with older.

We seldom see this kind of difference in one couple. And yet, it wasn't all that much of a difference, if you think about it.

And if you do think about it, you come up with: it's all about the list. At least, that's what I come up with. What list you're on dictates who you partner with. Who you link to. A, B, Z... Moderately handsome (though no slouches) forty/fifty year olds hang together. 19.5 inch biceps hang together. Thirty-two year old model/lawyers hang together.

When we'd run across this couple, the differences we saw kept us from believing that these guys were together because they themselves chose to be together - without a previously-arranged business agreement. The List dictated our conclusions. Tall guy and short guy? Not a chance.

Do A-listers have the responsibility to date Z-listers? I think not. The discourse on desire maintains everyone has the right to choose who they want. However, I'm somewhat disturbed in the pedestrian nature of my current thinking - and my willingness to believe only what my eyes see.

Get To Know Your Neighbors
I've lived in my building for about 15 years now, and I know that's a millenium in DC residence time. But I'm a native of this city, so it's my hometown. Oddly enough, though, in all those years, I've only really known one person who lives in the building. Everyone else, friendly for the most part, comes and goes so quickly here.

However, there's an online neighborhood where I should get to know my neighbors. I'm talking about 2KBloggers, and the eight bloggers bordering my picture - my 2KBloggers neighbors.

I'm 19 rows down and 4 bloggers in on the right side of the photo montage (there's over 1500 pictures as of today, so it takes a bit of downloading.) My neighbors, starting at the upper left corner and going clockwise, are:

Becci's Bungalow
Name: PowersTwinB. Partial to antiques, and addicted to vacation cruises (just like me!)

Flip Flop Floozie
Name: It's a Flip Flop World. Loves cats and exclamations. Hates Jerry Springer and Judge Judy (as do I!)

Fruit of the Spirit
Name: Debbie. Another cat fancier. Has a photo blog and a craft blog. Has combated her moodiness by getting a job - congratulations! (I would like to combat my moodiness by early retirement!)

Todd Biske: Outside the Box
Name: Todd (I think). Speaks in acronyms. Probably very good at math (quite unlike me!)

My Mid-Life Crisis -- The Official Soundtrack
Name: Bill. Great blog title. A procrastinating writer (just like me!)

elke's
Name: elke (I think). Ik denk dat iedere juf wel een kind kent dat rekenangst heeft. (Er zijn er nog meer!)

Corporate Presenter
Name: Jeremy. Resides in North London. Writes about an amazing number of things, not just "corporate presentations" as his blog title would suggest. Just got back from a trek to Africa. (I've never been to Africa.)

the badbadivy experience
Name: Ivy. Is thinking she needs anger management after reading her own blog posts lately. Probably knows all the words to the "Happy Happy Joy Joy" song. A self-proclaimed crazy cat lady (I'm surrounded by cats!)

So those are currently my 2KBloggers neighbors. I started this by searching, picture by picture, for bloggers who almost instantaneously let you know that they are gay (like me.) However, I thought to myself, why ghetto-ize my blog searching experience? Search out voices and lives unlike your own! Live the experience you hope others are living out there - finding blogs representing viewpoints not necessarily your own!

Of course, I'm still interested in how many bloggers with gay content (which doesn't mean "adult") are among the 2K... If we go with the 10% rule, that would mean there are most likely... uh... let's see... carry the 8... divide by 3.14...

Maybe there's another episode of Law & Order SUV on...

More on The New Money
(click here if you haven't read the first post on The New Money)

The Presidential Dollar program does have a PR and outreach plan:

1. Federal agencies and outlets dealing with cash were told by the Mint (and backed up by Congress) that they had to be able to handle these new coins.
2. There's a plan to raise awareness through education at the grassroots level, involving educational institutions, banks, etc.
3. A firm has been engaged to "leverage earned media and free advertising opportunities, low or no-cost public relations initiatives, and other creative publicity and promotional methods" to get the word out. Here's where the government plans to save money: "it is also the sense of Congress that the coins should not be introduced with an overly expensive taxpayer-funded public relations campaign."

My thoughts:
1. It's a proven fact that Acts of Congress are the best way to sell anything.
2. I consult my bank on all my purchases of food, clothing, vacations, and for things around the house.
3. Is it me, or is the best time to save money on a project before you market it? Like, deciding whether or not to go forward with the project in the first place?

Something You Can Always Count On
The day after the Oscars, you can always count on Tom Shales absolutely BLASTING the show in the Washington Post. And this year has been no exception. Nowadays, I dispense with watching the telecast, and just read Shales's rant the next morning. It tells me all I need to know.

For me, knowing how Tom is going to feel about the Oscar show is quite in line with Seth Godin's post "I'm not surprised."

If I was an Oscar telecast producer, I'd read the last twenty years of Tom Shales reviews before I put the next year's awards on the air.

My blog is worth $53,631.30.
How much is your blog worth?

That Many Presidential Dollars? Really?
A little over a month ago, my blog was worth $O.OO. I used the same program a few minutes ago, and now my blog is worth $$53,631.30. I'm sure being one of 2000 Bloggers has something to do with it. If I could cash it in I could make a substantial payment on my condo and still have money left over for my next vacation.

I've Been JetBlued
I've decided Jet Blue should now be a verb - as in "That company really JetBlued me." I've been having ongoing problems with my employment-based email service - and their customer service is usually inept. This Monday morning, more problems. I call them, and get a long description (i.e. 2 sentences, which is 500 sentences in customer service time) of why they can't help me right now.

What I wanted to hear: "We're experiencing a problem right now which may be causing your problem. I'm happy to give you my name and direct line, as well as take your name and phone number, and keep you posted on our endeavors to fix the problem."

What I got: "We're experiencing emergency power maintenance, and so I'm not able to tell you why or what is going on with your service."

"Emergency Power Maintenance?" What the hell is that?

After I hung up, I said to my co-workers:

"They JetBlued me."

Mr. Where
Queer Sighted's post "I'm never going to find Mr. Right" addresses a problem not just confined to New York city... namely, the single gay man's lamentation on the lack of datable guys out there.

Post author Richard Rothstein advocates for us to get involved through gay and lesbian community centers, and he nails the reason so many men don't:

"Most of us know of but claim to be too busy or too cool to try the political, social or cultural organization route, but that, my friends, is where the husbands are to be found."

He's definitely got a point. Lately I've been pursuing the DC bar scene, mainly because that's where my friends (mostly couples) show up. And I've never gotten more than two dates out of any guy I've met in a bar.

Trouble is, I haven't had that much luck going the organization route either. And I've burned out on them. Over the past couple of dozen years, I've been:

A church-going member of Dignity Washington;
A helpline volunteer and youth group coordinator for SMYAL;
A Saturday-morning regular with Front Runners;
A coxswain for DC Strokes Rowing Club;
A bass in the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington;
A cycler in the Philadelphia-DC AIDS Ride;
A participant in numerous AIDS walks;
A 1999 award recipient from the Arch and Bruce Brown Foundation.

I've been to Provincetown, Fire Island, West Hollywood and Mykonos, sailed on four gay cruises, and spent countless weekends in Reho. I've alternated searching with giving up and not caring. And I'm chronically single. I've gone through numerous therapists, trying to isolate and treat the problem, but no luck. Is it me? Is it DC?

One friend, part of a couple, asked me "Are you happy?" I answered "About 50/50." "Well," he added, "I'm about 60/40, so being in a relationship doesn't change things all that much."

A fellow "singleton" claims guys are intimidated by me, because I'm solid, drama-free, and all about being "real" and "honest" (which doesn't mean "full disclosure) and "who I am." "They can sense those things in you, and it frightens them," he says.

"Actually," I answer back, "I don't think DC guys sense anything."

So is it the guys out there, or am I just too picky?