MISCELLANY FROM LAST WEEK

Monday: Did a 1 hour interview by a Rutgers sociology grad student who is doing her thesis on "Sex Attribution"--how people determine the sex of other people. She thought it would be a good idea to start by canvassing TGs, who probably have given the subject more thought than average.

Wednesday: My friend Wendi and I went down to the LGBT Center for a reception for the newly-elected speaker of the New York City Council, Christine Quinn. She's the first openly gay person in that position--as well as the first woman, and the first Irish person also (the first Irish person?--amazing!).

There were some hors d'oeuvres (I really have to learn how to spell that--I have to look it up every time) and wine. Quinn was delayed, so there was plenty of time to mingle. I ran into Paisley Currah, the Brooklyn College political science professor who heads up CLAGS. I hadn't seen him in a while--maybe not since the Lammy Awards last summer. I got a hug from Matt Foreman, the executive director of the NGLTF. I did a very brief interview for the Center's public access cable TV show (I wonder when it's on?). I ran into a woman who had worked with me on setting up the Name Change Project of the West Village TransLegal Clinic. She mistook me for my friend Joann Prinzivalli, the head of the New York Transgender Rights Organization (NYTRO). We figured out that she didn't recognize me because I only presented as a man at those meetings.

Someone in the crowd--I'm pretty sure it was the guy who writes the Homo Dish column for HX Magazine--complimented me on my outfit, or at least its color: I was wearing my red business suit. Maybe I'll see my name in print again.

I was talking with one of the guys from the Stonewall Democrats, I think, when he spied Rosie Mendez, the new City Councilperson who took over Marguerita Lopez's seat. There was an evening last fall when she was campaigning, going from event to event--and ran into me at two different ones. Mendez remembered me from that (politicians really need the ability to remember everyone). She was saying how she was honored that Quinn had passed on her own physical seat in the Council chamber to her, as the newest lesbian on the Council--and how she was kind of overwhelmed with all the new things to learn about being on the Council. She didn't seem to have any staff person with her.

Eventually Quinn arrived, there were some introductory speeches, and she spoke a bit, after having all the other elected officials join her on the stage. Nothing remarkable in any of it, except that one of those officials was Congresswoman Carolyn Maloney--my representative. I hadn't heard of any particular connection between Maloney and the LGBT community (I don't think the Center is in her district), or with Quinn, but there she was.

Anyhow, the speeches ended, and after a bit the gathering started to break up. Maloney happened to be walking by me on her way out, so I said hello, telling her I was a constituent.

I left a short time later, to get to my other event of the evening, the annual business meeting and interim election of Crossdressers International (CDI). I had to give my treasurer's report, and I wanted to let people know what was happening with the website update project. There were elections for three positions (all but mine), because there had been resignations in all of them last year. What was really unprecedented, was that two of the elections were being contested--there had only been one contested election in the history of CDI before this.

Anyhow, S. Kristine James, the CDI founder (who calls herself the chair--though the position is not in the bylaws), brought the meeting to order--announcing it was a joint meeting of CDI and the Greater New York Gender Alliance, an umbrella organization with only one member--CDI. It really exists only on paper, but it is incorporated (unlike CDI), which makes it useful at times. We did the minutes of last year's meeting--mostly from my memory, as the secretary had resigned. I gave my reports.

Then Kristine conducted the election. There was only one candidate for president, so that went by acclamation. Then, for some unknown reason, she skipped to the office of secretary. This turned out to be practically a non-contest, as one of the candidates endorsed the other. A vote was taken, though the totals weren't announced. Kristine appointed the loser "assistant secretary"--a position as non-existent as her "chair."

Finally we got to the office of vice president, where there were three nominated candidates. It was announced one had withdrawn, but the other two were quite serious about wanting the job. Each gave a speech, and the vote was taken. One candidate was declared the winner--we were only told the vote was close. Kristine again appointed the loser the assistant.

She then turned the meeting over to the CDI president, and we got into a big discussion about money--dues, charges for the open house and for the holiday dinner, and charitable contributions. All kinds of opinions were offered. Some people wanted big incentives to become members, some wanted large charitable contributions to be made, some wanted no contributions to be made. I was not at all surprised by the lack of consensus--the only thing the CDI members have in common is an interest in crossdressing. Otherwise you have huge differences in income, education, political view, everything.

Eventually it was decided to raise the dues a little for 2007, raise the open house charges (but make it free for first timers), decrease the big discount for the holiday dinner, and leave the question of charitable contributions to the officers and an advisory committee. I was very happy when the meeting was adjourned. I was even happier when some of us went up to Dave's Tavern and I had a nice gin and tonic. And there was a huge bucket of peanuts I could munch on.

HEADLINE OF THE DAY

Humuhumunukunukuapuaa Dethroned in Hawaii
It may not be much of a story, but it's a great headline.

DON'T ASK, DON'T TELL, DON'T STAFF YOUR ARMY

The army is now investigating some paratroopers in the 82nd Airborne Division for appearing on a gay pornography website. This would be a violation of the Pentagon's "don't ask, don't tell" policy, which deems any action by a member of the armed forces that indicates he or she is gay to be a violation of the code of military conduct, and would require them to be discharged from military service.

This policy is contributing greatly to the staffing problems the military has seen since Bush, Jr. decided to invade Iraq. Many badly needed Arabic translators have been discharged because of it. Recently a report came out that a great many doctors and other medical specialists have been lost to "don't ask, don't tell," resulting in bad shortages there. Now they are going after paratroopers, some of the best-trained, most-needed combat soldiers the army has.

The policy is illogical, idiotic, stupid, ridiculous, imbecilic and dumb--besides being discriminatory and unfair. Having gays and lesbians in the military would not be a problem if the military didn't make it one. They should have the right to serve their country in the military the same as everyone else. Moreover, they are needed in the military. When are the homophobes in the Pentagon (and their congressional backers) going to face the facts?

STUPID (alleged) CRIMINAL OF THE DAY

Alleged Crack Dealer Uses Business Cards

I GUESS NOT ALL OF THEM COME EARLY IN THE MORNING

I just got a hit on my blog from someone looking for "india uncovered ass sex." Someone in Dubai. At least I was all the way down on page 24 for this one. Which means this guy (I'm assuming) went through 100's of sites before he got to mine.

I guess there's not much to do in Dubai.

(Isn't that where Michael Jackson is living now? Hmmm.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WOLFGANG!

Today is the 250th anniversary of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's birth. Classical music fans around the world are celebrating the child prodigy who managed to write 626 works of music in his all-too-brief 35 years. He revolutionized opera, and I'm sure not an hour goes by when his music isn't being performed or broadcast somewhere in the world. Even Google has a nice logo modification in his honor.

I'm listening to a live broadcast from Salzburg, Austria, Mozart's birthplace. WQXR's own Jeff Spurgeon is on the broadcast team introducing the selections back to America. The Vienna Philharmonic under Ricardo Muti and several great soloists are performing. At a carefully timed intermission, all of the churchbells in the city will ring, to mark the exact moment of Mozart's birth (known because his father, Leopold, recorded it in a letter).

I can't say Mozart is my favorite composer--I prefer later works written for larger, more varied orchestras--but I still find his music wonderful. So happy birthday, Wolfgang! Thanks for all the great music. Somehow, I think they'll still be listening to it in another quarter millenium.

YET ANOTHER EARLY MORNING WEIRD WEB SEARCH

chelsea law and order run by nuns cafeteria

BLOGGING WITHDRAWAL

Blogger.com announced a 30 minute maintenance shutdown for 4:00pm PST yesterday. When I got home early this morning it was still down, just a screen announcing the 30 minute outage. Not good. I couldn't blog.

It was still that way today, and I got scared. Did something major happen? Would my blog be coming to an end? Would I have to start over? There were no direct news reports, just stuff about AdSense and a quarrel with Google (which owns Blogger). Had Google cut off Blogger? I thought not, since that certainly would have made the news.

But still I was scared. The blog itself was still working, so I backed up everything as best I could. Then everything came back a few minutes ago. Big relief.

So I now I can blog. Except I don't have any time now--I've got to got get ready to see my friend in A Midsummer Night's Dream--with flying donkeys!

CATCHING UP: NAMOLI BRENNET AND GRACE MILLO

Last Thursday I went to hear Namoli Brennet, a transgender singer-songwriter I first heard last year at a Stonewall Democrats fundraiser at Fagapalooza. I had known for a while she was coming out east from her Tucson home for a tour, but there wasn't a NYC concert on her schedule. So I was delighted when she inserted a little "house concert" in Brooklyn.

I was even more delighted to see it would be at the home of Ed Mannix, a guy I used to run into frequently at the Monster Bar, five or six years ago--but I hadn't seen him for a long time (or had I? He said he was at Fagapalooza also, but I don't remember seeing him there).

Ed has been hosting a series of musical events in his high-ceilinged living room for three years now, his website says. He calls them "A Circle of Berdaches," believing Berdache is a good name for LGBT people like him. Well, I must say I don't particularly like his appropriation of this term, and I might like it even less if I were Native-American--though they prefer being called two-spirit people, there are still some real berdaches today. Anyhow, regardless of the name, Namoli would be singing at Ed's.

Getting there was not half the fun, however. A stalled subway train converted a one-change trip to a mini-nightmare of four trains (five if you want to include the one I got off of before it moved, because they announced a change in destination) and a very aerobic climb at 4th Av-9th St. Of course, when I got there Ed informed me of a much easier alternative route. Oh, well.

Anyhooski (as Namoli wants everyone to say), I did get there, and got a big hug from Ed, who joked about the "cow" skirt I used to wear (It was pony, not cow!--faux, of course). He introduced me to his roommates, and some other people, including the opening performer, Grace Millo, and her friend, Nicole, who is a bartender at RubyFruit. I talked a bit with Nicole, about how we used to go there more when Michael, a friend of the CDI president, was the chef.

We talked for a while, drank some wine and munched on the food Ed provided--the hummus and the stuffed potatoes were great, and the pear salad was very nice also. We listened to some songs he liked, both on CDs and on the internet. He was waiting for some people who had RSVP'd--and for Namoli. Eventually she showed up. She said she had been leaving messages all day. Ed then checked his voice mail, and found hers--explaining that he had been home all day, and she must have called while he was on the phone with someone else.

After Namoli got settled a bit (and accepted Ed's offer to stay over--she hadn't even thought about where she would be sleeping!), the show began with Grace Millo. I had never heard of her, though I had heard of her sister, Aprile Millo. In fact I even had actually heard her sister, singing at the Metropolitan Opera. (However, I had neither heard, nor heard of, their brother: punk rock pioneer Rick Wilder of the Mau-Maus, and the Berlin Brats.) It was clear from the start that the family's singing talent did not skip over Grace (the parents were both opera singers also). One of the problems of many singer-songwriters is that they are much more the latter than the former (think Leonard Cohen). But Grace has no shortcomings here.

She has no shortcomings on the songwriter side either. I particularly liked "Quicksand Ground' (the title track of her latest CD), and "Get It Right."

Her 45 minutes ended too soon. It was an unexpected treat. I was happy I could buy a CD so I could hear her songs again.

Then it was Namoli's turn. It took her a few minutes to tune her guitar, so I had a chance to get some more wine (and buy Grace's CD). I even managed to eat a nice piece of roast chicken, without messing up my make-up.

Namoli sang some songs from her new CD, Chrysanthemum, including the title track. "What I Wouldn't Give" brought a smile to my face, with its tale of a grandparent wishing for half the energy of an ADHDD grandson. "Between the Furrow and the Roses" was sad--a father, near the end of his life, giving his burial instructions to his daughter. "Faceless Men with Cold Hands" was even sadder--a song of sexual abuse. Few of her songs are really happy. Her lyrics are not always easy--you really have to think sometimes. But when you do think, you feel what she means.

She sang some old songs. She took requests. She even sang the title song of her first CD, "A Boy in a Dress." She sang and sang and sang, having a great time. And I had a great time listening.

But all good things must end, the saying goes (why is it only bad things get to go on and on indefinitely?). I bought a couple more CDs, which Namoli eagerly offered to autograph. My purse was stuffed. I arranged to take the subway back to Manhattan with someone, then waited while he and Ed had a long discussion, about Outmusic, I think, or maybe that was a previous discussion. Whatever, it was mostly a monologue by Ed. He does like to talk.

Eventually we extracted ourselves, and walked the couple of blocks to the subway. A train came quickly, and we were on our way. I was really glad of the company though, because a stop or two later a somewhat bewildered homeless guy and his huge plastic bags of stuff boarded the train. He sat down and joined our conversation, while the bags contented themselves with spilling their contents on the floor. We humored him--he didn't seem dangerous. But he couldn't quite grasp what day it was.

Unfortunately, my escort's destination was a couple stops before mine, so for a couple uncomfortable minutes I was left alone with the guy (there were a few other people in the car, thank goodness). When we reached my stop I dashed past him out the door. He called after me, something about how I reminded him of Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie.

Oy.

BOY MEETS GIRL

My friend Helen Boyd has just sold her next book. Tentatively entitled Boy Meets Girl, it will be published by Seal Press. I'm so happy for her.

Seal says:

The author of MY HUSBAND BETTY writes about her husband’s crossdressing and the possibility of his undergoing a sex change, which frame her commentary on the pressures (both emotional and sexual) that traditional gender roles can bring to our relationships, marriages, and partnerships.

My only problem: it won't be out for another year.

ONE FOR THE LOCKING THE BARN DOOR DEPARTMENT

W.Va. Legislators Take Up Mine Safety Bill

SOME HAPPY NEWS

Parents of Missing Penguin Have New Egg

I'M A HAPPY BLOGGER

Yesterday broke my record for the most visitors to this blog in a single day: 56. Thank you all.

NYJFF III: CAMILLE & QUEEN ELIZABETH

My second and last session at the Lincoln Center Film Society's 15th annual New York Jewish Film Festival consisted of a pair of French films made in 1912, La Dame aux Camélias and Les Amours de la Reine Élizabeth (English titles: Camille and Queen Elizabeth). Question: What are these doing in a Jewish film festival? Answer: They starred Sarah Bernhardt. Question: How does that make them Jewish? Answer: Though she went to a convent school, and was a practicing Catholic most of her life, Bernhardt was born Jewish--at least on paper. She never made any mention of her mother ever practicing Judaism, only that her grandmother was an "Israelite," as the French called Jews back then.

I call this the "Jewish Museum Syndrome." There, even the most remote connection to Judaism is a valid reason for including something an exhibition--or even mounting an entire exhibition about it. And indeed, the Jewish Museum is currently showing Sarah Bernhardt: The Art of High Drama, and the showing of these films was connected to it.

In reality, Bernhardt's connection to Judaism was not quite as tenuous as that. Regardless of her religious practices, she endured a great deal of anti-Semitism at the hands of the popular French press. While she downplayed her Jewish ancestry most of the time, Bernhardt did use it to her advantage when it was convenient: During the Franco-Prussian War, she reminded people of her Jewish roots when she was suspected of being disloyal to France, just on the basis of her Germanic name. (Actually, she had changed it from Bernard, though it's not clear just when.) She was also a staunch defender of Alfred Dreyfus, the Jewish French army officer wrongfully convicted of espionage--not that one had to be Jewish to support him.

Anyhooski (as Namoli Brennet wants everyone to say--I think it's Namoli), tenuous connection or not, Bernhardt was in the NYJFF, and I wanted to see her. Also, I wanted to hear the live piano accompaniment (by Donald Sosin) that was presented--just the way silent films were originally shown. I don't think I had ever seen one that way before. For my college film course we just sat in silence--even for the 3 hours of D.W. Griffith's Birth of a Nation. And I saw a couple of silents in Radio City Music Hall with a full orchestra accompaniment: Abel Gance's Napoléon, and Flesh and the Devil with Greta Garbo. But never the old-fashioned way.

The program had the co-curators from the Jewish Museum exhibition to introduce the films and take questions from the audience afterwards. Carol Ockman, Professor of Art History at Williams College, and Kenneth E. Silver, Professor of Fine Arts at NYU, explained some of the Bernhardt's history, as well as film's role as a fine art a century ago.

Sarah Bernhardt was the superstar of her time--without being the best actress or the most beautiful. She promoted herself ceaselessly, always looking for publicity--her temper tantrums were trumpeted, her private life was a public affair. She endorsed all sorts of products, and served her country in both the Franco-Prussian War and World War I, and was inducted into the French Legion of Honor in 1914. Besides acting on the stage (while producing her own plays, often in her own theaters), she was a writer and sculptor.

She was always on the forefront using the latest in technology. Born in 1844, just five years after the invention of photography, she used it to disseminate her image far from the theaters where she appeared. When Edison invented sound recordings, she was there in Menlo Park, NJ to have her voice preserved. And in 1900, she filmed the brief duel scene from Hamlet, as she was touring Europe playing the title role. It was more of an experiment than a serious effort, but she was obviously intrigued by the possibilities. Six or so years later she made a two reel Tosca, a role written for her for the stage. (A two-reeler ran roughly 25 minutes, depending on how fast the projector was cranked.) She disliked the results so much she tried to buy up all the copies to destroy them--fortunately she wasn't completely successful.

It was several more years until she was lured in front of the motion picture cameras again. $30,000 was a big enough lure. Camille, another two-reeler, was a great success, and made film into more than a cheap popular entertainment mainly for the working class. Bernhardt, as a serious stage actress, changed all that. Within a few months she followed it up with a four-reeler of Queen Elizabeth, which proved to be an even bigger success. As big as it was in Europe, it was even more important to the American film industry. Adolph Zukor brought it to the Lyceum Theater here in New York, and made a fortune on it--enough to bankroll what became Paramount Pictures.

All this is background, of course, most of which was related by the two professors doing the introduction. I think they were a tad over-enthusiastic for the films, particularly Ockman. The films may have changed the history of the medium, but that doesn't mean they were all that good, certainly not by contemporary standards. Intertitles, full screens of text, were used to explain each scene, but they rarely contained the dialogue. It was filmed pantomime, basically.

In 1912 Bernhardt was 68 years old. She had been playing the Lady of the Camelias on stage for decades--maybe 3,000 times by that point. It took a ton of make-up, and no close-ups, to make her the least bit believable as a young courtesan. Her over-acting, while not totally ridiculous, was a bit excessive, though from what I understand was the way she was on stage also. Her death scene was not overdone, and it did show her acting abilities, as Ockman had said.

Bernhardt was more believable as Queen Elizabeth. In this film I was impressed by the costumes and scenery, which were, the film noted, from Bernhardt's own company--this was what they used on the stage. Since the film was nearly twice as long as Camille, it had time to really develop the story.

The films are fairly well preserved, though there are a few parts with significant deterioration. One intertitle was visible so briefly it couldn't be read. The piano accompaniment was not nearly as important as I expected it to be. It was fine as background music, but I don't think it really added very much.

Although I think one can get an appreciation for Bernhardt's acting from the films, I don't think one gets a notion of her beauty, nor (of course) her personality. The films are certainly more important to the history of the medium than to the history of her. I do want to see the exhibition at the Jewish Museum--I think I'll learn a lot more about her there than what I learned at the film festival.

THIS IS A BLOG FOR CHOICE

Today is the 33rd anniversary of Roe v. Wade.
See Bush v. Choice.

VARIATIONS ON A (SPAM) THEME III

Babes in your area
Babes in your neighbourhood!
Babes in your region
Babes inside your area?
Babes inside your district!
Babes inside your region?
Babes inside your region!
Babes within your area!
Babes within your city
Babes within your city!
Gals in your area?
Gals in your area!
Gals in your district?
Gals in your neighbourhood
Gals inside your city!
Gals within your area!
Gals within your district
Gals within your region!
Girls in your area
Girls in your area!
Girls in your district
Girls inside your area?
Girls inside your city!
Girls inside your neighbourhood!
Girls inside your region
Girls inside your region?
Girls within your district!
Girls within your neighbourhood
Ladies in your district?
Ladies within your area
Ladies within your area?
Ladies within your city
Ladies within your city!
Ladies within your region!
Women in your district!
Women inside your area!
Women inside your city?
Women inside your city!
Women inside your district
Women inside your district?
Women inside your region

If you like this sort of, er, inventiveness see my previous installments, starting with this one. I update them (and this one) continually, as more examples arrive.

A DINNER PARTY--FRENCH STYLE

I don't really remember ever being at a real dinner party, at least one in someone's home, not a restaurant. I guess last evening was a first for me. I mean, who actually has the ability and the time to cook these days?

Well, Frenchwomen do--at least the ones who are living in New York because their husbands' employers sent them here. My wife, who is always looking for an opportunity to practice her French, got to know our hostess in one of the various French clubs my wife is in--I can't keep track of them all.

So that's how I ended up at a dinner party with a half a dozen French people, all but one of whom are in New York just temporarily. I can understand French somewhat well. I can put together a phrase, sometimes even a full, grammatically correct sentence, as long as I stick to the present tense. Past and future are very iffy, and the subjunctive--not to save my life. Basically I was counting on the wine being good to get me through the evening.

Now we're not talking about your formal dinner party here--there wasn't a tie in sight, much less a tail coat, tuxedo or evening gown. No butlers, footmen or maids, no servants of any type, though the building did have a doorman, a concierge and an elevator operator. The last wasn't really necessary to operate the automatic elevator, but we did need him to point out which apartment we were going to, because there are no letters on the doors--I guess that's how it is in some fancy, "exclusive" buildings. And it's certainly in a fancy location, overlooking St. Patrick's Cathedral.

I don't ever remember being in an apartment with a polished marble floor in the living/dining room--not to mention a full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with an excellent view of the Empire State Building. The floor was so noticeable because there wasn't a rug. In fact, the furnishings were very sparse--these are people who are here only temporarily (I noticed a whole shelf full of rolls of bubble wrap in the closet).

We started with an aperitif, as they do in France, while we waited for the remaining guests. I had a Pastis, an anise (licorice) liqueur, which is quite nice when diluted with water and chilled with ice. There were bowls of hors d'oeuvres--two kinds of olives, some delicious cherry tomatoes, cashews--and pistachios, still in the shell. We sat and talked--well, I mostly listened. The man we were talking with would switch to excellent English when he saw I didn't understand.

Eventually everyone arrived. Our hosts' son was also there--he's here in the U.S. for post-doctoral studies--though he left before dinner. Three middle-aged couples, plus a man and a woman. The man's wife, who my wife knew, was away visiting their daughter--in a warmer climate. So the hostess (I assume) found an unattached woman (perhaps she was a bit younger than the rest of us) to balance things out. I believe it's a requirement for dinner parties to have equal numbers of men and women. Well, at least for heterosexual dinner parties.

The women were casually, though nicely, dressed, two in pants, two in skirts. Both of the skirts were ankle-length, though one woman's had a slit up the side that revealed a lot of sheer black pantyhose-covered leg when she sat. All wore a little make-up, and had nicely done but not fussy hair. The men wore an assortment of sports jacket, sweaters, uncovered shirt.

The cocktail hour stretched a bit overtime. The conversations covered all kinds of things, but travel seemed to predominate. One of the men related how he periodically has to go to North Carolina to see a factory his employer owns. He was surprised by the number of churches in such a small town, and he was astonished when a company luncheon was preceded by someone saying grace. In France religion is a private thing. French people are amazed when politicians here mention God--that is never done over there.

Eventually we did sit down to eat at a narrow table tucked in the corner, after the hostess lit six little candles in glasses arrayed down the middle, three toward each end. The hostess was careful to arrange the seating so that it was man, woman, man, woman, but no one was seated next to or across from one's spouse (two more dinner party rules, I believe).

The meal started with a trio of vegetable mousses: zucchini, carrot, and beet, my favorite. They were served in little, narrow glasses, with sticks of toast for dipping. A nice red wine was poured by the host. The hostess brought out a huge platter of breads--five different kinds! I chose a roll with cranberries and nuts. The man closest to the hostess helped clear--no sexism here. The main course was a simple whitefish filet of some sort, mildly seasoned and steamed in foil. Very lightly buttered new potatoes and thin green beans with a bit of garlic were served on the side. No traditonal heavy French sauces. All very nice, though I would have preferred to add some salt. But I thought it would be impolite to ask for it.

The dinner conversation turned to movies and art exhibitions, which I mostly understood, and could add a bit here and there. Then, don't ask me how, the talk turned to malaria, dengue fever and worms! I stopped even trying to follow it at that point. I was rather glad I couldn't easily understand what was being said.

After we finished the main course (with a second platter of vegetables offered around), it was time for the quintessentially French cheese course. Four kinds, two goat, two cow, with another selection from the bread platter--I chose a plain bread this time. A second bottle of wine was opened at this point.

Dessert followed: a very nice, light strawberry purée served in martini glasses, accompanied by the best meringue concoction I've ever had--it had thin almond slices coating the inside of a meringue shell, and was filled with something soft and sweet. Somehow the meringue remained chewy, not hard. I had two of them.

In France they do not have their coffee with dessert--it's separate course (I have a friend who absolutely will not start her dessert until her coffee comes. I think she would have a big problem in France.) We adjourned back to the living room area. I was very glad to get off of the hard plastic chair--we had been sitting at the dinner table for about 2½ hours.

The coffee was French roast, of course, just a demi-tasse. That was to be expected. What I did not expect was that the coffee was instant. Individual packets of regular or decaf, which the hostess deposited in the little cups, which she then filled with hot water. It was amazingly good for instant.

The conversations went on, though I was sort of out of it. It was just too much of an effort to try to understand what was being said--the wine and food had taken their toll (not that I was over-stuffed--in France they have a way of serving a dinner that leaves one just full). I spent a good bit of time staring at the Empire State Building--when I wasn't nodding off.

Eventually it was time to go. My wife was amazed that it was after midnight. She had had a great time, and I had survived--the wine was good.

YAWN OF THE DAY

Oklahoman Crowned Miss America in Vegas

HEADLINE OF THE DAY

U.S. Navy Seizes Pirate Ship Off Somalia
Well, shiver my timbers. They should make them walk the plank!

WEB SEARCH OF THE DAY

"caprice lost 12 pounds in 5 days"
I wish.

SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM

The spammers are working overtime. Yesterday I got 66. But not one of them made it past my home-made spam filter.:D

GLOB DER LAUNE?

It is really weird seeing my blog (semi-)translated into German.

WEB SEARCH OF THE DAY (actually yesterday)

kick ass cross drawings has this blog as number one of 48,330. MSN Search really likes me. Sometimes I wish they liked me a little less.

QUICK POST: LAST NIGHT AND TODAY

Last night was the regular weekly Open House at the Crossdressers International apartment. Nothing terribly unusual transpired, but afterwards, instead of heading to Greenwich Village and the Monster Bar, six or seven of us just walked two blocks up to Dave's Tavern, a small neighborhood place.

It has a pool table in the back, and we had a lot of fun, pairing off and playing each other, plus one pair of guys already there at the bar. Playing pool after the Open House reminded me of my very first months presenting as a woman in public, at the old Androgyny Lounge--only this time the guys we were playing against weren't tranny chasers.

The people either were friendly or just ignored us (actually one kinda drunk, self-described "old gay queen" was a little too friendly), the drinks were OK, there were several TVs going so I could watch the end of a basketball game I was mildly interested in--it was a nice place. We may have found a new permanent after-Open House venue.

If so, I'll miss the Monster (I'll probably try to get down there once in a while), but then again, the Monster isn't quite what it used to be, under its new owner. A lot of things are better there actually, but some aren't. Maybe it's time to move on.

Anyhow, I have to go and get ready to go out tonight. I'm hearing Namoli Brennet at a little "house concert" at Ed Mannix's place--a guy I used to see at the Monster like five years ago. It's at 7:00 out in Brooklyn, so I have to get moving pretty soon.

WHY DO ALL THE WEIRD WEB SEARCHES COME EARLY IN THE MORNING?

Today it's "russian girls kick testicles"--and my blog has the dubious distinction of being number one of 14,031 results.

TO THOSE WHO THINK BILL SHATNER NO LONGER PRODUCES ANYTHING WORTHWHILE:

Shatner Sells Kidney Stone for Charity

CATCHING UP: NY PHILHARMONIC AND CORIGLIANO'S RED VIOLIN

Saturday evening we were back at Lincoln Center for a New York Philharmonic concert. It consisted of the New York premiere of John Corigliano's Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, entitled "The Red Violin," and Richard Strauss' Eine Alpensinfonie (An Alpine Symphony). The concert was not on our subscription, but we traded for it because of a conflict on another night.

I was particularly interested in hearing the concerto. Corigliano won the 2000 Oscar for his film score for The Red Violin, and I liked the music in that very much. Joshua Bell played for the film, and would be the soloist with the Philharmonic.

Unfortunately, what worked well for the film fell flat as a concerto. Translating a film score into a work for the concert stage is always difficult, because the purpose of the music is so different. Background music is best when the audience doesn't really notice it. It reinforces what is on the screen without intruding upon it. Even with a film like The Red Violin, where the making of the music is actually depicted in places, the score is still just a supportive device.

But a concert work has to stand on its own, supporting nothing. Corigliano used musical themes from the film score here and there, but never really brought it all together--particularly when he gives the soloist a chance to show off his or her virtuosity. Such an opportunity is usually necessary to attract a great musician to perform a new work. Here Bell (still wearing the black pajamas he wore at Mostly Mozart last summer) got to show off his prodigious skills, but I didn't see any particular connection to the rest of the piece.

Forty-three year old Jonathan Nott, for six years the principal conductor of the Bamberger Symphoniker, made his debut with the New York Philharmonic with this series of concerts. A champion of new music, he made the most of what little the concerto had to offer. It went on for forty minutes or so, and then he, Bell and Corigliano got their ovations. All in all Corigliano's concerto was a little more enjoyable than last week's one by Walton, but I still have no desire to hear either of them again.

After intermission (they've begun to carry very good, chewy brownies at the concessions--if they'd only add walnuts they'd be close to perfect), it was back for the Strauss. His Alpine Symphony has never been one of my favorites--I sometimes call it the Alpo Symphony, because it is such a dog. It goes on and on and on, without a break, for nearly an hour. It's supposed to describe a nature lover going up and down a mountain--the program lists 20+ episodes such as "Sunrise," "On the Glacier," "Mists Rise Up," "Night." Some of them are distinguishable, but many just seem to mush into each other--it isn't worth trying to figure out where you are on the list.

Strauss used a huge orchestra for this work, even compared to his usual large forces. Besides the full string sections, there are twice the usual number of winds, including two tubas. Strauss even threw in a Heckelphone, sort of an English horn on steroids. The percussion section gets to empty several of its closets, and then go down to the basement for the thunder sheet--a couple of long pieces of sheet metal bolted together end-to-end, with a handle on the bottom. This is suspended from above, reaching nearly from the ceiling to maybe seven feet from the floor. What else? There is also a full organ. (Memo to the Philharmonic: If you ever actually do renovate/replace Avery Fisher Hall PLEASE put in a real pipe organ. That electric one SUCKS. Sorry for the language.)

But filling the stage with, I don't know, maybe a 100+ players wasn't enough for Strauss. There is an off-stage 12-piece brass band in addition. Perhaps this should be called A Musicians' Union Full Employment Symphony.

Anyhow, they played it. The off-stage brass gets its turn early on. And after playing for maybe a minute, they're done for the night. The ones that live close by were probably home before the symphony ended. The ones on-stage soldiered on. They played and played. I watched the Santa Claus-bearded Heckelphonist through my binoculars. I can't say I every actually ever heard the Heckelphone, though--the Heckelphone part is always mixed in with a lot of other instruments. At long last there was the storm episode, time for the thunder-sheet, which had been looming over the orchestra all evening like a sonic sword of Damocles. Christopher Lamb, the Principal Percussionist (and tallest of the bunch), reached up and gave it a few shakes. It wasn't even particularly loud--a big disappointment.

Actually, I didn't think the symphony was quite as bad as I did the other couple of times I've heard it. Nott led it tightly, at a very quick pace, and that helped. Maybe, though, it was the distractions around me: the pair of whispering yuppie couples behind me, with the restless guy who kept nudging my wobbly seat with his foot, and the sniffling woman who kept rummaging in her purse, and the totally bored teenager next to us who couldn't sit still, and the cougher a couple rows back, and...oh forget it.

The best part of the evening was the brownie.

HEADLINE OF THE DAY

House Republicans Unveil New Ethics Plan
The House Republicans could improve the ethics of Congress much more simply by all of them just submitting their resignations.

VARIATIONS ON A (SPAM) THEME II

Add considerable flavouring to your experience!
Add considerable flavouring to your living
Add considerable spicery to your experience
Add considerable spicery to your experience!
Add considerable spiciness to your existence!
Add important flavour to your aliveness?
Add important spiciness to your experience?
Add significant flavour to your experience
Add significant spice to your experience!
Add substantial flavour to your life!
Add substantial spicery to your life?
Add up important flavour to your life
Add up significant spice to your life?
Add up significant spice to your living!
Add up significant spicery to your aliveness?
Add up substantial flavouring to your aliveness!
Add up substantial spiciness to your liveliness?
Append considerable flavouring to your liveliness
Append important flavour to your aliveness
Append important flavouring to your experience
Append important spice to your aliveness?
Append important spicery to your living?
Append significant spicery to your existence?
Append significant spicery to your life?
Append significant spiciness to your aliveness
Append substantial spice to your living?
Contribute considerable flavour to your aliveness?
Contribute considerable flavour to your existence
Contribute important flavour to your experience?
Contribute important spice to your liveliness
Contribute significant flavour to your existence?
Contribute significant spicery to your existence
Contribute substantial flavouring to your liveliness
Contribute substantial spice to your existence?
Inject considerable flavour to your life!
Inject considerable spice to your aliveness!
Inject considerable spice to your existence
Inject important flavour to your aliveness
Inject important flavouring to your life
Inject important spicery to your life?
Inject significant flavour to your existence
Inject significant flavouring to your life?
Inject significant spicery to your experience?
Inject significant spicery to your living!
Inject substantial spiciness to your life!
Supply considerable flavour to your life
Supply considerable spiciness to your existence
Supply significant spice to your experience!
Supply significant spiciness to your existence?
Supply substantial spice to your living!

There's also my prior installment, which I continuously update.

WEB SEARCH OF THE DAY (probably)

Another one of the very-early-in-the-day-but-I-think-it's-the-winner web searches: india fuck hot story to read actress xxx found this blog. Someone from Singapore.

I'm really glad I didn't come up until page 8 on this one.

HEADLINE OF THE DAY

Laura Bush Backs Domestic Spying Program
I can see why she'd say something like that. With a husband like G.W. she needs a program to keep an eye on him. Who knows when he's going to fall off the wagon.

She is talking about spying in the home, isn't she? Or does she think she's the next Hillary Clinton?

NYJFF II: PORK AND MILK

Following Keep Not Silent-Orthodykes at the 15th Annual New York Jewish Film Festival Thursday was the much less successful Pork and Milk. This was the New York premiere of French film-maker Valérie Mréjen's very straight-forward 2004 documentary lets ten Israelis who had left the confines of ultra-Orthodox Judaism for the "secular" world tell their stories, just talking to the camera.

But no one ever really says what "secular" means here. The subtitles used the word, publicity for the film uses it, but I don't think what they are talking about is a totally non-religious life. Rather, I got the impression that at least to the ultra-Orthodox everyone outside of their branch of Judaism is "secular," regardless of how observant they remain. "Secular" may just be the closest translation to a Hebrew word they are using, but I really don't know.

That was just one of the problems of this film. The ten stories varied widely in length--a couple of them were very brief. The whole thing was only 52 minutes. A lot of time was spent on one man who became a chef, as he slowly struggled, sometimes silently, to relate his experiences. He had run away (to where? he never said, other than that it was still fairly close to his home) at 14½. He did explain how he supported himself, but a lot of other details were omitted. He said that later two of his sisters followed him and were living with him, but nothing else of them was mentioned.

And that was the person in the film with the most screen time. The others' stories were even sketchier. There were only two women. One spoke of joining the Israeli army, and the isolation she felt from the other soldiers, who had all kinds of misconceptions of ultra-Orthodox life. One man was shown donning his old cantor garments, and beautifully singing a prayer--but there was no explanation of why he did that. Was it just to show what he used to do, or was it something he still did? The film didn't say.

I really didn't learn a whole lot from the film. I already knew what they were running from, but found out little of what they had hoped to find. The experiences they related were mostly quite predictable--dating problems, etc.

I wouldn't waste my time on this one.

ANOTHER REPUBLICAN IN TROUBLE

So now it's Ohio congressman Bob Ney who's the lastest Republican in Washington stepping down "temporarily" from a leadership position because he's being investigated for corruption. The list keeps growing (see my article).

If the Democrats aren't totally stupid (never a good assumption, alas), they'll take back at least the House this fall.

3,000 VISITS!--THANK YOU ALL

This blog had its 3,000th visit earlier this evening. Thanks to all of you--especially those who keep coming back for more (while I can't identify my visitors totally from the log, I get enough information to recognize repeaters). I just wish more of you would leave comments.

I guess maybe it's time to install a visible visit counter. But not tonight. Right now I'm going to go watch the Wisconsin-Northwestern basketball game I recorded earlier.

Thanks again.

CSI: FACT OR FICTION II

At CSI: FACT OR FICTION I wrote about a panel discussion I attended where they talked about the effect TV shows like CSI have on real-life trials. The Associated Press has more on the subject here: Legal TV Dramas Influence Real Jurors.

VARIATIONS ON A (SPAM) THEME

Computer Movie Camviewer Dating?
Computer Movie Camviewer Hookup
Computer Tele Cam Meeting?
Computer Tele Camera Hookup?
Computer Tele Camviewer Dating
Computer Tele Camviewer Hookup?
Computer TV Cam Dating?
Computer TV Cam Meeting
Computer TV Camera Hookup
Computer Video Cam Meeting
Computer Video Camcorder Meeting?
Computer Video Camera Hookup!
Computer Video Camviewer Hookup?
Computer Web Camera Hookup?
Computer Web Camera Hookup!
Computer Web Camviewer Hookup
Computer Web Camviewer Hookup!
Digital Movie Camera Hookup
Digital Tele Cam Dating
Digital Tele Cam Meeting!
Digital Tele Camcorder Hookup?
Digital Tele Camera Dating!
Digital Tele Camviewer Hookup
Digital TV Cam Dating?
Digital TV Camera Meeting?
Digital Video Cam Hookup
Digital Video Cam Meeting
Digital Video Cam Meeting!
Digital Video Camcorder Dating!
Digital Video Camera Dating?
Digital Web Camcorder Meeting?
Digital Web Camcorder Meeting!
Electronic Movie Camera Meeting
Electronic Tele Cam Meeting!
Electronic Tele Camcorder Dating
Electronic Tele Camcorder Hookup
Electronic Tele Camcorder Meeting
Electronic Tele Camviewer Hookup?
Electronic Tele Camviewer Meeting
Electronic TV Cam Dating
Electronic TV Cam Dating!
Electronic TV Cam Hookup
Electronic TV Camcorder Dating?
Electronic TV Camera Hookup?
Electronic TV Camera Meeting?
Electronic TV Camviewer Hookup!
Electronic Video Camcorder Dating
Electronic Video Camera Meeting?
Electronic Web Cam Dating
Electronic Web Camviewer Dating
Movie Cam Dating
Movie Cam Dating!
Movie Cam Hookup
Movie Cam Meeting
Movie Cam Meeting?
Movie Camcorder Hookup?
Movie Camcorder Meeting
Movie Camera Dating
Movie Camera Dating?
Movie Camviewer Dating?
Movie Camviewer Hookup
Movie Camviewer Hookup!
Tele Cam Dating
Tele Cam Hookup
Tele Camcorder Hookup
Tele Camcorder Meeting
Tele Camcorder Meeting!
Tele Camera Dating
Tele Camera Hookup!
Tele Camviewer Meeting
TV Camcorder Dating?
TV Camcorder Hookup!
TV Camera Hookup
TV Camera Hookup?
TV Camera Hookup!
TV Camviewer Dating!
TV Camviewer Meeting
TV Camviewer Meeting?
Video Cam Dating!
Video Camcorder Dating!
Video Camera Hookup
Video Camera Meeting?
Video Camviewer Dating?
Web Cam Hookup
Web Cam Hookup?
Web Cam Meeting
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Web Camcorder Hookup!
Web Camera Dating
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Web Camera Meeting?
Web Camviewer Dating?
Web Camviewer Hookup!

THEIR BRAINS MUST HAVE BEEN FROZEN

New York City requires landlords to provide heat to apartments. Sometimes. The rules basically say:

Between October 1st and May 31st, a period designated as "Heat Season," building owners are required to provide tenants with heat under the following conditions:

Between the hours of 6:00 AM and 10:00 PM, if the outside temperature falls below 55 degrees, the inside temperature is required to be at least 68 degrees Fahrenheit;

Between the hours of 10:00 PM and 6:00 AM, if the temperature outside falls below 40 degrees, the inside temperature is required to be at least 55 degrees Fahrenheit.

So at night, as long as it's 40 degrees outside, landlords have no obligation to provide any heat at all.

Forty degrees is COLD!

Of course, by 6:00am they are required to get the apartments up to 68 degrees--unless it's 55 or more outside.

The whole thing is ridiculous. What difference does it make what the temperature is outside? What's important is what the temperature is inside.

I suppose there is a tiny justification for the start and end dates--it gives the landlords a definite point when they can shut down the heating systems. But frankly that is little comfort in late September, when the daytime temperatures can slip well below 55.

Who thought up this idiocy anyhow?

NYJFF I: KEEP NOT SILENT: ORTHODYKES

There wasn't much in this year's Lincoln Center Film Society's 15th Annual New York Jewish Film Festival that particularly attracted me, at least at times I didn't have a conflict. I'm only going twice. The first time was last night, for a pair of 52 minute documentaries.

The first shown (contrary to the schedule) was Keep Not Silent: Orthodykes. Things got off to a rocky start when they started showing the film without sound--rather ironic, given its title. After a few minutes of yelling and clapping by the full-house audience the projectionist restarted with the soundtrack on.

It is the stories of three Jerusalem women who are both observant Orthodox Jews, and lesbian. How they reconcile these two seemingly contradictory aspects of their lives was the subject of director Ilil Alexander's first film. Though Keep Not Silent does suffer here and there because of her inexperience, it is still a powerful documentary.

Alexander had to overcome the needs of her subjects to remain anonymous. Pseudonyms were used. Only one would let her face be seen. Alexander used a blurred webcam picture for one, and just shot the last from the rear. There were a lot of scenes shot through curtains, which became kind of symbolic of the basic contradiction--a little light could get through, giving a hazy image, but there was no way for the two sides to really see each other.

It was the two older women who needed complete anonymity. They were both married, one with ten children, one with six, and it was the danger to their children that was the women's biggest concern. Quite simply, if it were known that their mother was lesbian, their opportunity for "good" marriages would be destroyed. In fact, no parents would even permit their children to enter her home.

"Miriam-Esther," the mother of ten, is totally in the closet. Not even her husband knows she is lesbian. She has suppressed her sexuality for twenty years, consciously avoiding becoming friends with any woman she thought she might become attracted to. "Ruth" leads a double life, with both a husband and a woman partner. But her husband discovered the secret, and came to the conclusion that it was better to keep the family intact, even if he had to tolerate his wife having a couple evenings a week with her lover. Finally there is "Yehudit," younger and single, who decides to openly enter into a commitment ceremony with her partner--while still planning on raising children in an Orthodox home.

The film gets confusing here and there. At the beginning there is talk of two women agreeing to participate in the film, yet there are three. The young couple are seen planning their commitment ceremony, yet they did not follow those plans. No explanation is given. My other major complaint is the inclusion of a series of lengthy landscape shots, that I suppose were intended to set a somber mood, which was not the least bit necessary--even the most joyful scene, the commitment ceremony, was saddened by a cellphone call to Yehudit's parents.

The film has been around since 2004. In fact, it was shown here last summer by NewFest, the New York LGBT film organization. It has been in various film festivals all over the world, and has won a number of awards. While I don't think it is quite as well-made as Trembling Before G-d, which focuses more on gay and lesbian Orthodox Americans, it is a bit better in explaining how some people are handling their duality.

----------

I posted my comments on the film that followed here.

YOU'RE NEVER TOO OLD FOR SEX

I have been getting a catalog called Healthy Living for some time now. It targets the mature (OK, I'll say it, the older) market, featuring things like folding canes, anti-wrinkle creams and denture cushions. But there's another category that has been slowly making its way into the catalog over the years: "sexual health" supplies.

It started very discreetly, with a plain, tapered cylindrical "massager," which they showed being used by a woman on her neck. (Yeah, right.) Now there's 4½ pages of merchandise, including a "Dual Pleasure Vibrator" ("Stimulates both pleasure zones at once"), the "Love Pill" ("Safe for those with high blood pressure or diabetes"), and the "Dual Pleasure Ring" (a vibrator which "sensuously grips both the penis and testicles"). There are videos, too. There's even more stuff on their website.

I'm guessing it won't be long before they start selling vibrator-equipped incontinence panties--a waterproof vibrator, of course.

ARE EUNUCHS EXEMPT?

Town May Make Carrying Condoms Mandatory

WHO ARE THE REAL DUMMIES HERE?

Automobile safety researchers have just noticed that female bodies are different from male bodies, so they are now developing female crash test dummies.

I think they need to get out of the lab more often.

BLOOMBERG BETS?

There's a story on the radio about how NY mayor Mike Bloomberg has promoted healthy habits, such as nutritious school lunches and anti-smoking measures. One thing in it caught my eye:

Bloomberg's weaknesses are red wine, hot dogs and the occasional hamburger. If he overindulges, there's a price to pay: He has a weight-loss wager with longtime friend Peter Grauer, the CEO of Bloomberg LP. They weigh in every six weeks, and whoever is over his goal weight _ Bloomberg's is 169 _ must fork over cash to charity.

Now Mayor Bloomberg is listed in the Forbes 400 as having a net worth of $5.1 billion. How much of a wager does he have to make so that he would really care if he lost? A million? Ten million? More?

IS BLOGGER BACK?

Well it still seems to be having problems, but not as bad as yesterday. Consider this a test.

Was it the old Pogo comic strip that always pointed out when "Fri13" came on a Friday? Anyhow, that's today.

BLOGGER'S BACK!

You may have noticed some difficulty viewing this blog the last couple days. I sure have. I had even more difficulty updating it. One article went in three times, because I got a screen telling me it hadn't gone in. So I tried it again. Twice. When I finally got in and saw the triplication, it took about two hours to delete a copy. That was two hours each. The one post I got in after that took about an hour and a half.

But everything is functioning normally now. If it remains so tomorrow, expect a bunch of snarky little articles on some news stories I've come across, and some comments on a couple of movies I've just seen at the NY Jewish Film Festival. But I'm going to bed now.

PUTTING THE "T" IN LGBT

In my continuing effort to put the "T" in LGBT, last night I was appointed to the board of directors of the LeGaL Foundation, the educational/charitable arm of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Lawyers Assn. of Greater New York. Assuming I want to continue with this next year, I'll probably run for the main board in the fall.

I believe I'm the only trans member in the whole organization.

BIRGIT NILSSON DIES

The great Swedish opera soprano Birgit Nilsson has died at the age of 87. I think I only heard her sing once, maybe twice, at the tail end of her career, but she was still magnificent. She was reknowned for singing the great Wagnerian heroines, but her most frequent role at the Metropolitan Opera was as Turandot.

She was known for her tremendous sense of humor. My favorite Nilsson story was when she was singing a love duet with a tenor, and held on to a high note longer than he could. He got so angry that instead of kissing her, as the script required, he bit her on the neck. She cancelled her next performance, on the grounds that she had contracted rabies.

WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH CHOPPED LIVER?

Over on the (en)gender message boards, my friend Betty thought someone was neglecting her and her wife Helen, and replied, "What are we, chopped liver?"

I've heard this expression many, many times, but I just don't get it. Why do people think chopped liver is something inferior? There is nothing inferior about chopped liver. I love chopped liver. It's wonderful.

As long as they put in onions.

A DIFFERENT KIND OF REPUBLICAN LAWLESSNESS

Police: Schwarzenegger Riding Illegally
So Arnold never got around to getting a motorcycle endorsement on his driver's license. I realize this is not the same type of Republican lawlessness as I pointed out here and here, but still, he should have known better.

Does this mean the Terminator films were made illegally?

JUST A SMALL MISTAKE

Parents Discover Babies Were Switched
Jan 10, 4:33 PM (ET)

BANGKOK, Thailand (AP) - Two babies born on the same day in the same hospital in Thailand were accidentally switched at birth, but nobody knew about it for a decade.

The parents of the children, now 10 years old, learned last month they had been raising children that biologically were not theirs, doctors said Tuesday.

Doctors at the hospital in the southern Thai province of Trang where the children were born said it was still a mystery how the mix-up occurred, but noted that the pair shared certain traits.

"They were (born) in the same room, had the same weight, and were delivered at the same time," said Sinchai Rongdet, the current director of Yantakhao Hospital where both babies were delivered. "The only difference is their gender."

Doctors typically tell a mother her baby's sex as soon as the child is born and tag the baby's wrist with his or her particulars.

The children - Orawan Chanthong, the girl, and, Cherawut Bunyu, the boy - grew up in neighboring villages and went to the same school. Neighbors constantly told the parents that their children bore close resemblance to the other child's family.

To end nagging curiosity, the parents and children went for DNA tests, Sinchai said.

"DNA tests confirmed that the children were switched," he said, adding that the families have not yet decided how to handle the news.

A senior Health Ministry official, Prat Bunyawongwirot, said the ministry was investigating the incident and assigning psychologists to speak with both children.

MORE WRITING ON THE WALL FOR DeLAY

DeLay Tried, Failed to Aid Abramoff Client
This stuff just keeps coming and coming.

HEADLINE OF THE DAY

Girl Gets Bird Flu After Kissing Chicken

LSD PROMOTES LONGEVITY?

Father of LSD Celebrating 100th Birthday

THE END OF RUSSIA!

Sunday afternoon I finished viewing the Russia! exhibition at the Guggenheim Museum. It only took me three visits to see it all, it was so big. (See my previous article.)

It was the weekend, in particular the last one before the exhibition closes, and the lines were humongous--there was even a short line outside for members, just to get in to the line inside for the members' desk. There was also a line to get an Audioguide, because there were none on hand. As soon as someone turned one in, it went right out again. All of the lines moved fairly quickly, though, so it wasn't that bad. Curiously, there was no line at the coat check--which explains why I kept getting brushed by the coats people were carrying when I got up to the exhibition.

I found the stairs and got a little exercise going up to level five, where I had left off the last time. As I figured, things weren't quite in chronological order, as the annex where I had seen the early Soviet works preceded the turn of the century pieces. There were various examples of works clearly influenced by western styles, and some that were trying to get away from western styles, particularly those employing a sort of primitivism. The former I thought were just pale imitations, and the latter more remarkable for the attempt than the execution.

But here and there I did find I few I did like--none of which seemed to be of any particular style I could identify. For instance, Mikhail Vrubel's 1898 Portrait of Nadezhda Zabela-Vrubel, the Artist's Wife, in an Empire Dress, with its big blotches of color, really stood out.

There was also Piotr Miturich's 1915 Portrait of Arthur Lourié. This was tucked away behind a pillar, and from what I can gather it is not a particularly important work in art history. Regardless, I think it was my favorite of this visit. It seemed to portray the man and the mood perfectly, with a minimum of fuss and bother.

There was one painting from the Soviet era that stood out. Even the control exerted by the Soviets over art, with its mandatory "Social Realism," could not totally stop other styles. I really liked the stark figure of a Russian peasant in Kazimir Malevich's Complex Premonition (Torso in a Yellow Shirt), which he did in about 1930. So simple, yet so powerful. It was one of his very late works, after he gave up abstract painting.

The more recent works did little for me. I eventually got to the end, and turned around. Then I walked down the spiral ramp, revisiting all of my favorites. It was getting toward closing time, and the crowd was thinning out, especially at the lower levels, so I could get a good, undisturbed view of almost everything. It was almost peaceful.

BEWARE OF STARBUCKS

Device Defused at San Francisco Starbucks
It looks like Starbucks is a dangerous place, along with Wal-Mart. Avoid that one, too.

TRANSFORMATION ≠TRANSVESTITE

There is campaign going on to remove the horrendously over-priced British chain Transformation (sort of the Michael Salem of the UK) as the top reference when you Google "transvestite." The idea is to make the Wikipedia entry number one by adding references to it in blogs. Which I've just done.

WHY IS THIS NEWS?

Pope Baptizes Newborns in Sistine Chapel.

So, what? This doesn't affect anybody--not even his followers. It's just a religious leader performing a normal religious ceremony, reiterating church policy.

If the pope announced that abortion was OK, or women could be priests, that would be news. This is not worth the electrons spent on it.

CSI: FACT OR FICTION?

This afternoon I went to a program of the New York Times' Arts & Leisure Weekend entitled "Crime Scene Investigation." It was a panel discussion featuring former NYC sex crimes prosecutor turned novelist Linda Fairstein, renowned forensic scientist (an expert witness in the O.J. Simpson trial) Dr. Henry Lee, and the creator of the hit TV series "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" and its spinoffs, Anthony E. Zuiker. The program was described as an examination of "how TV crime solving matches up to real-life investigations."

First, I should say that I haven't watched many of the CSI TV shows, and the few I've seen I didn't particularly like. Even without having the specialized knowledge of the panelists, I knew the shows were far, far from real-life. Real police forensic specialists do not have any contact with suspects--that's the job of the detectives. They're certainly not going to be the ones slapping the cuffs on them.

I had also read a little article in TV Guide after the first show started, where they listed which of the forensic procedures shown on the show could actually be done. Some were accurate, but some were a big stretch--and a few were total fiction, according to the experts quoted. What I also read elsewhere is that no local police forensics lab has all of the fancy equipment shown on the show.

But, my wife likes CSI: Miami especially, and she had had a brief encounter with Linda Fairstein many years ago (she was on a jury in a trial Fairstein prosecuted before she moved to the Sex Crimes Division), and she wanted to go. So I went along, even knowing pretty much what was going to be said.

And they said it. That and a bit more. For instance, while this does vary from locality to locality, the people who gather the evidence at the crime scene generally are not the people processing it in the lab--that's a separate group of people. So on the shows they melded three different units, the detectives, the evidence gatherers, and the lab technicians, into one. And, as one would suspect, the labs don't come up with answers nearly as fast as on the show.

That kind of stuff I expected--it's entertainment, not a documentary, and they have to tell a story in 44 minutes and 15 seconds, as Zuiker explained. They try to keep it as accurate as possible, with experts on their staff, but that's not their highest priority.

What I didn't expect was a discussion of how the TV shows have affected real-life. There is now a huge number of people, the majority women, wanting to get into forensic science. Dr. Lee runs a school for them. But it goes way beyond making an arcane profession suddenly hip. Juries now have to be warned that real life is not like on CSI--they're not going to see the kind of evidence they've seen on TV. Dr. Lee also told us of a police detective who requested Dr. Lee to write to his Chief, because the Chief was demanding results from his CSI people like he saw on television.

It was an entertaining hour-and-a-quarter. They were all good, humorous speakers, though Dr. Lee's accent is still pretty thick despite all the years since he came to America. Clyde Haberman, the New York Times columnist who moderated, asked good questions. There was a Q&A for audience members at the end, and even most of those questions were pretty good.

But the best part of the whole thing was when Haberman allowed Fairstein and Lee a couple of minutes to wander off-topic and discuss the O.J. Simpson case. Dr. Lee had testified for the defense, and said the evidence could not establish Simpson's guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. Fairstein said that to the contrary, the evidence of past, escalating domestic abuse, coupled with the physical evidence, was enough, and that if the judge and prosecutors had done their jobs right Simpson would have been convicted.

It was Dr. Lee, though, who got the biggest laugh of the program when he said, "At the beginning of the trial, 80% of Caucasians thought O.J. was guilty, and 80% of African-Americans thought he was innocent, and 100% of the Chinese didn't give a shit."

WAGNER, WALTON, DVOŘÁK--2 OUT OF 3 AIN'T BAD

Tonight, after a decent Southwestern-cuisine meal at Sante Fe's new location (try to get a table by the bar. Note: though there is some resemblance, Southwestern is not Mexican. If you want great Mexican food on the Upper West Side, go to Café Frida), we walked down to Avery Fisher Hall for a regular subscription concert by the New York Philharmonic--a violinist I'd never heard of, playing a concerto I'd never heard, by a composer I'd barely heard of. At least they bracketed it with a couple of familiar works. I settled into my seat with a pocketful of coughdrops to combat this little cold I've had the last couple of days.

This concert was a tough sell for the Philharmonic. Lots of radio ads on WQXR, plus offers of discounted tickets for our friends mailed both e- and snail. Somehow, though, they did manage to pretty much fill up the house.

Philharmonic Music Director Lorin Maazel conducted, and started with Richard Wagner's Overture to Der fliegende Holländer (The Flying Dutchman). The rousing nautical themes are well-known, and it's an audience favorite. Der fliegende Holländer was Wagner's earliest opera that has withstood the test of time, and he composed it long before his more esoteric Ring Cycle. I thought we might be in for a bad evening at the start--one of the horns hit a sour hote in the exuberent opening bars, but nothing of the sort happened again. Save for that one note the orchestra was fine.

Next on the program was the big question mark: James Ehnes playing Sir William Walton's Violin Concerto. This was commissioned by Jascha Heifetz, who premiered it with the Cleveland Orchestra in 1939. While it isn't quite a virtuoso piece, designed just to show off the player's skill, it certainly takes a very skilled violinist to play it. Ehnes got through it just fine, but it did not move me in the least. It's not particularly melodic, and has nothing else that would make me want to hear it again.

After intermission it was Antonín Dvořák's Seventh Symphony. Though not nearly as well-known as his super-popular Ninth ("From the New World"), or even his Eighth, its themes are quite familiar. Maazel led it strongly, and the orchestra responded--they clearly like his conducting very much.

It was a pretty nice concert, all in all. We did not have tall people seated in front of us for a change, and everyone kept quiet during the performance. Maazel managed to look distinguished even without a tie. And my coughdrop supply held out.

DeLAY FINALLY GIVES UP AS MAJORITY LEADER. YAY!

Republican congressman Tom DeLay has given up his attempt to return as House majority leader. Required to relinquish the post while he fights felony money laundering charges back in Texas, he had been hoping to return to his leadership role. Now that his crony, lobbyist Jack Abramoff, has pleaded guilty to various charges, and is co-operating with prosecutors, even DeLay can read the writing on the wall. Things are going to get worse for him, not better.

DeLay is the latest example of Republican lawlessness in Washington. They're investigating Senate Majority leader Bill Frist for insider trading. California Rep. Randy Cunningham has already pleaded guilty to charges of conspiracy to commit bribery, mail fraud and wire fraud, and tax evasion, and resigned from Congress.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, of course. It's looking better and better for the Democrats in November.

COMMENT MODERATION IS ON

I don't know why I didn't do this before. Either it was added after I set up this blog, or I just missed the option. Now I get to read comments before they are actually posted. And I can dispose of any that I think should not be seen.

I don't have to agree with a comment to let it in. I have no problem with criticism. I do have a problem with rudeness, and personal attacks, either against me or other people who post comments. These will be deleted, as will commercial solicitations and other spam and spamoids.

So you won't be seeing any more nastygrams from the Ozarks on this blog.

CALIFORNIA PIZZA?, SLICE 2

My friend Sirena posted a comment to my California Pizza? article. I'm not quite sure what she's objecting to, but it got me thinking a bit more about the subject.

Though I do find pizza toppings like pineapple rather weird, I really don't care what people want on theirs. I like sausage, peppers, onion and mushrooms, preferably all fresh. My real problem with the idea of California-style pizza is what goes underneath the toppings. I like a chewy crust, flavorful cheese, and a noticeable amount of reasonably heavy, not too sweet tomato sauce. It's going to be a little greasy. California-style, at least as it comes out at the California Pizza Kitchen, is a thin, dry crust, tasteless cheese and a token amount of tomato sauce too small to be noticed. Grease-free, and almost taste-free. The real test of pizza is that it should be good without any toppings.

One of the things I forgot to put in my first post is that I have never found the pizza from any national chain to be very good. Domino's is abominable (I'm not sure what the fluffy yellowish stuff on top is, but it's not cheese). Pizza Hut isn't much better. Now I can add California Pizza Kitchen to my avoid list.

CALIFORNIA PIZZA?

I had dinner at a California Pizza Kitchen this evening. Our movie companion chose it. I had never heard of it. I'll try to forget it.

The idea of California-style pizza just doesn't seem right. To me California-style means light food, with crunchy fresh vegetables (I'll never forget the first time I had a salad there, on a family trip when I was 12. Even the iceberg lettuce was flavorful.) Pizza is not light food--if it's not a little greasy, something's wrong.

But I went, and I ate. I had the Sweet & Spicy Italian Sausage Pizza, "a combination of sweet Italian sausage and grilled spicy Italian sausage with our tomato sauce, roasted red & yellow peppers, mild onions and Mozzarella cheese." If there was sweet sausage on it I couldn't tell, because the spicy sausage drowned it out. I always like to add some oregano to my pizza, but apparently this is not something people normally do to California-style pizza--the waiter had to go to the kitchen, and get some on a little dish.

Did I mention the place was crowded with little kids, noisily celebrating birthdays?

Final irony: on the way out I noticed that right across the street there's a branch of Patsy's Coal-Oven Pizza.

MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS

I saw Mrs. Henderson Presents this evening. Not bad. A rich, upperclass, British eccentric being eccentric--what else would you call capriciously buying a London theater in 1937 and then featuring naked women in it. The ending seemed contrived. Judi Dench and Bob Hoskins were great, a couple of real characters playing off each other.

If you like stories of British eccentrics, go see it. If you like Judi Dench and/or Bob Hoskins, go see it. Otherwise, there are probably better movies around you'd prefer to see.

SPAM OF THE DAY

"The whales penis weights 1 ton. Virility Patch RX can make your cocks weight close to it."

It sounds like it would be rather difficult to use--much less walk with.

I GUESS I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE...

...who finds some of the Spermamax spam humorous. Someone got my blog searching for "funny spam spermamax."

OH NO! WHERE WILL I GET MY PASTRAMI?

Second Avenue Deli closes! At least temporarily--their lease expired and the landlord wants to jack up the rent. This is serious. They have the best hot pastrami sandwich in the city.

Maybe they should have the waiters negotiate the new lease. But the waiters haven't been quite as surly as in decades past, so it might be better for them to use some retirees.

ANOTHER GOOD INTERNET TIME-WASTER

www.wannaspell.com

I GUESS THEY DIDN'T WATCH THE GAME

Wisconsin easily beat Auburn in the Capital One Bowl, finished with a better record, yet the AP still ranked Auburn the better team.

Big Ten teams continue to be under-ranked. True, Penn State and Ohio State ended up third and fourth, but that was only after being consistently ranked lower than they were by the computers all through the season.

WEB SEARCH OF THE DAY

'"paint by numbers" horse kyle'

OVERHEARD IN NEW YORK

One of my favorite websites (which didn't make my list in my Meme of Fours) is Overheard in New York. As its name implies, it's snippets of conversations people hear in the city. Mostly it's people being crude, ignorant, and/or mentally disturbed, but some of them are really funny. I've added a link button below my links list.

I've just noticed they have a sister site: Overheard in the Office. There's a green link button on their main site.

A LOSING PROPOSITION FOR MAYOR BLOOMBERG

After they are inaugurated, New York City officials have to sign an official register, so their signatures on documents can be verified. The signatures are attested to by the City Clerk, who collects a fee (which goes to the City) for this service. Four years ago, the fee was fifteen cents, which Mayor Bloomberg could afford, even on the one dollar a year salary he is taking.

But the fee has gone up. It is now nine dollars. Mayor Bloomberg will have to dip into his billions to cover this one--like he dipped in for the $79 million he spent to get re-elected.

NARNIA

I finally saw Narnia. Quick review: I liked it. A little bit too long (I did find myself looking at my watch about 1:50 in). The special effects were amazing. I thought Georgie Henley was great as Lucy. I didn't find the Christian symbolism obtrusive at all. The popcorn was nice and fresh.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

By the way, happy New Year to all! Now I've got to run to see Narnia.

FROM RUSSIA! WITH LOVE

The Guggenheim Museum is hosting Russia!, a huge exhibition covering that country's art from the 13th Century to the present. I spent two full hours there Friday, learning a lot about Russia's art history, a subject with which I was rather unfamiliar.

Before that, though, we stopped for lunch with another couple at a different museum, the Neue Gallerie's Café Sabarsky. The museum shows German and Austrian art, and the restaurant features Viennese food. My sausage salad was quite good, and the Black Forest cake was excellent. The only thing that marred the meal was a busboy who seemed to have skipped taking a shower.

Then we had to go just a couple of quick blocks up Fifth Ave. to the Guggenheim. The exterior is being repaired, so the distinctive Frank Lloyd Wright-designed architecture is obscured by scaffolding. But they've done their best to make even the scaffolding is distinctive.

The lines for tickets were long, even the one for members--mostly because that was also the line for people with CityPasses. As the guests of members our friends were able to get in for $10 each, an $8 savings over the increased admission the Guggenheim is charging during the Russia! Exhibition. We then went and got Audioguides--a must for this tour. The captions by the artworks give only identification information, unlike the ones at the Metropolitan Museum. There are explanations on the walls for the various sections of the exhibition, but you'll get a lot more out of it with the Audioguide. At the membership desk we were told they were sold out, but we could check to see if any had been returned. Fortunately, a few had been.

After checking our coats we went up the ramp to the first level. We decided not to try to stay together--my wife and I frequently split up in exhibitions like this. She was an art history major, and often likes to look at some things much longer than I. This was actually our second visit to Russia!, so we were already at different points, but it was our friends' first time.

It turned out that the crowd (many speaking Russian themselves) was manageable, though. While I occasionally could not get a clear view of a painting, I would just go on to the next one, and within a few minutes I was able to go back and see what I missed.

During my first visit I was able to get a little past Peter the Great (the exhibition is pretty much chronological), but there was a lot more to see--there are over 250 works in it. I was not that interested in the very early ones. The iconostatis, a wall of painted images, was impressive for its size and grandeur and age, but for little else.

When Peter the Great (reign 1682-1725) opened up Russia to Western culture, things got more interesting. He started collecting Western paintings on his travels. But it was his granddaughter-in-law, Catherine the Great (reign 1762-1796), who really assembled a first-rate collection. It became the basis of her Hermitage (which Nicholas I made into a public museum in 1852).

The paintings they collected were interesting, but what was more important to me was the development of Russian artists during the period. In the mid-1700's Catherine the Great founded the Academy of Fine Arts in St. Petersburg, following the French model. By 1782 Russian artists were turning out masterful portraits such as the one of Alexander Lanskoi--with the bust of Catherine the Great smiling down on him. It was really a joke, though. Lanskoi was one of her lovers, and the bust, which was exhibited by the Guggenheim right in front of the painting, actually has a much more serious expression.

It was Karl Briullov's portrait of Countess Samilova that really caught me eye. Briullov broke away from the St. Petersburg Academy, and finished his education in Rome. It was there he painted Samilova, another Russian emigrée, in about 1833. His ability to reproduce the fabrics of the clothing, curtains and rug was stunning. Even up close the dresses appeared almost to be photographs.

Other artists also found the rigidity of the Academy too confining, and by the second half of the nineteenth century a group of them had broken away. Known as the "Wanderers," they used art for social commentary. Moreover, they mounted traveling exhibitions, so the people of Russia outside of St. Petersburg and Moscow could see their art. Ilya Repin's Barge Haulers on the Volga may have been the most famous of the works they showed. It depicted the travails of a group of men, freed from serfdom, toiling as beasts of burden with strength and dignity--men whose labor was cheaper than the use of horses.

And then there was Ivan Kramskoy's 1883 Unknown Woman--who immediately reminded me of a dark Bernadette Peters. The photograph-like detail was stunning. But the painting was more controversial at the time because, though her name may have been unknown, her profession was not--she was a high-class prostitute of some sort, and therefore scandalous as the subject for fine art.

There were many other works that had me lingering for extended views. I remember two full-length statues less than a foot high. Not only were the statues great, but they were exhibited superbly--a spotlight put their shadows dramatically on the wall behind. Without seeing the statues you would think they were much larger.

I had anticipating seeing some of the great Impressionist and post-Impressionist paintings from the Hermitage, which has an excellent collection. I was rather disappointed--what they lent for this exhibition was far from the cream of the crop. One good Picasso, the rest very secondary works, and not many in total. The collection, and the one in the Pushkin Museum in Moscow, were created from the personal collections of Moscow merchants Sergei Shchulkin and Ivan Morozov. Confiscated by the Soviets, the collections stayed hidden away in storage for decades, as they did not conform to the Soviets' view of art: Social Realism.

There was a whole annex roomful of the early Soviet art--some very propagandistic, a few moderately interesting, nothing terribly compelling.

It was there I ran out of time--I was still on level 5, with two more levels to go. I think I got a bit out of order chronologically. I'm pretty sure there are more pre-Soviet works in the main gallery which I didn't get to. Perhaps I'll go back to finish. It runs to the 11th.

We stopped in the little café on the ground floor for something to drink and some more conversation with our friends.

On the way out we saw a line of people stretching around the corner, waiting in the cold to get in--at 6:00pm on Fridays the Guggenheim starts its "Pay What You Wish" session. But it was way before 6. My wife said that when she went out to do some errands a bit later, she saw the line stretched all the way to Madison Ave.! Clearly this is a very popular show.

HERE COME DA JUDGE

Someone has done a study of the relative funniness of the justices of the Supreme Court, according to a NY Times story. To no one's surprise, Justice Antonin Scalia was been found to be the funniest, based on the number of times "[laughter]" appeared in the court transcripts of the 2004 term. Scalia is known to be a quick wit, and many feel he deliberately plays to the crowd. (He's a bit behind Breyer this year, but he's got plenty of time to catch up.)

Personally, Justice Scalia provokes more tears than laughter. I guess it's too much to hope that after seeing this study he'll resign from the Court for a career as a comedian. "Here come da judge, here come da judge" (warning: you have to watch a commercial before viewing the clip).

WEIRD WEB SEARCH OF THE DAY (so far)

'belem brazil blog holiday "we stayed"'

I know the day is young, but I think this might hold up as the weirdest to reach this blog today.