Gay Guy is on vacation this week, sorry if things are sounding a little one-sided.
Saddened by the news about John Hughes passing today. [Entertainment Weekly story here.] He'd been retired and lived in relative seclusion since the mid-90s. Good for him.
Over a year ago, I put up a post about his impact on me, and the importance of tolerance as a central theme of his work, at least in his incredible string mid-80s teen-angst comedies.
Here it is:
Gay Guy,
Saw this recent article on John Hughes. My teenage angst came flooding back as I read it. I think demographically I was the perfect target for the genre he created. When "Sixteen Candles" came out, I was (1) sixteen, and (2) an emotional outsider seeking some validation.
As the article points out, Hughes switched the game and told many of his stories from the outsider's perspective. In fact, Hughes' best known film (though not my favorite) is "The Breakfast Club" where Hughes implies that we are ALL outsiders, no matter how we classify ourselves. My public school was similarly governed by cliques... divided into athletes, stage performers, brainiacs, and those who inhabited the smoking lounge (how was this ever an approved and authorized option for 14-year-olds?). There were many options for self-segregation...
I didn't know anyone who was gay and "out" (though some of my suspicions have since been confirmed -- more surprising are the ones that weren't). But my high school would not have been the most accommodating environment for the first one to try. We certainly used homophobic insults with little discretion.
In not a small way, I'm sure that these films made me a more accepting and tolerant person. You've met some of my high school friends, GG, and must know that if I am open-minded, it's not due to engaging in enlightening discourse with them.
I don't deserve any extra credit for being your friend, Gay Guy. Well, I do... for so many reasons, but not because you're gay, I should say. But if it took some growing up on my part to see value in people that I don't totally understand, I have to give some credit to Hughes and his films.
He made 6 "outsider" films from 84 to 87, some better than others, but all arriving between my 16th and 19th birthdays. And I'm sure I didn't miss a single one.
Sixteen Candles (1984)
Weird Science (1985)
The Breakfast Club (1985)
Pretty in Pink (1986)
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Some Kind of Wonderful (1987)
Anyway, many of today's filmmakers cite Hughes as a crucial influence, and have sought him out to no avail. He hasn't worked in many years (though I hear that the idea for the recent Owen Wilson flop "Drillbit Taylor" is an old one of his).
Just wondering if these or any other mainstream films had a similar impact on you.
Gay Guy later admitted that he didn't think he'd seen, or at least remembered seeing, any of these. Blasphemy.
Look, I have such a soft place in my heart for these films that I forgive Hughes for the lazy recycling of "Some Kind of Wonderful" from the remnants of "Pretty in Pink." Swap the lead's genders and it's a whole new film. Kind of. But it still works. No one can top PIP's thirty-ish James Spader as the spoiled high-school heavy, though.
Readers, anyone else have any John Hughes memories? His films are undeniable, and easily quotable, touchstones for Gen Xers like me.
One of my favorites: "Can I borrow your underpants for, like, 10 minutes?" --Straight Guy
Here's the last few minutes of a Cheers episode, way back from the first season.
One of Sam's old pro-baseball teammates has written a book and comes out of the closet. The regulars worry that the publicity will cause Cheers to be known as a gay bar. They've already tagged a few new customers as suspicious, and are taking matters into their own hands. But is their gaydar up to snuff?
Dated? Ahead of it's time? Somehow, both?
Here are links to the first two parts (1, 2), and a blog post from Ken Levine, the writer of the episode who'd still like to tweak that last joke. Must have been a tough episode to sell to the network in the early 80s.
--Straight Guy
UPDATE: They won an Emmy and a GLAAD award for the episode.
So true. Anyone not wearing their cap at 12 o'clock is a poser.
Brimmed caps serve two purposes only: (1) To keep the sun out of your eyes. (2) To disguise a bad case of weekend bed head.
From illustrator Lunchbreath. Check out his flickr stream. Anyone who hates Ed Hardy stuff as much as I do is all right with me.
Dudes sporting a backwards cap AND an Ed Hardy t-shirt should be stereotyped and avoided. Feel free to judge that book by it's cover. It's a very dull read, anyway.
An LA fertility clinic has just added a new search criteria to it's anonymous sperm bank catalog. Customers can look beyond the height, hair color, and education of the donor. Now you can also know whether he looks like Brad Pitt (not listed yet) or Brad Garrett (yes, listed, and extra points for honesty).
No celebrity is meant as an exact match for any donor, nor should you assume that your future children will look like any celebrity listed... consider the fact that many people look like both their parents, without their parents actually looking like each other.
That's small consolation if a slight misfiling error gets a donor knocked up by "James Gandolfini" instead of "James Franco." Just saying. Let's be careful with the vials.
Still, business is looking good the company. Here's a quote from an article at KTLA:
"The number one client question we get is: `Who does this donor look like?"' said Scott Brown of California Cryobank. "We decided this would be a great way to give thorough and consistent answers. Clients love it. Look-a-Likes has only been available for a week and our Web site traffic is up 50 percent."
I'm not sure who, exactly, is in the market for a Jerry Orbach look-a-like baby (yes, he's listed). But I created this photo as a warning to those who might not think that plan all the way through.
Readers, forewarned, this is the kind of shit that makes GG lose his mild-mannered-mind . . . . .
OneNewsNow reports that Home Depot is making America's kids gay. To quote the news agency -- I use the term 'news' lightly--Home Depot is "introducing children to the homosexual lifestyle." Read the news story. In brief: Home Depot, my new favorite hardware empire, donated to the Nashville Gay Pride celebration and sponsored a special booth there where kids could do crafts. I can only assume that these were wholesome American crafts, like making a potholder on a loom, not making a studded leather harness out of felt.
Home Depot: "Building a 'Le-Gay-Cy' for Children." For real? Building a gay? Is it in a kit? DIY from random parts? What aisle at Home Depot?
Okay, you effing crazy conservative Christians, I ask you, What is it that you want? What will it take to feed your beast? You want us to be straight, we play in a hardware store booth. What more can we do?
SG, schlep my city guy ass out to the suburbs this evening, find me a Home Depot, and wait for me while I buy, I don't know what, a light bulb or something.
Check out these print ads (click to enlarge) from camera manufacturer Omax. They might not make sense until you see the set of three, all selling wide-angle lenses.
Ha. Ha. I get it. We (straight guys) aren't really interested in photographing landscapes, animals, or skylines. We just want to capture topless sunbathers, cleavage, and booty shots without anyone noticing us. I'm glad we connected on this, Omax, and since you've labeled me as a stalkerish pervert, I'm eager to purchase your products.
Sarcasm off. Look, I know that sex sells, and that a certain amount of objectification is the price we pay to make that system work. I've never been in a bebe store (or even know how to pronounce it... bee-bee or bay-bay?) but I am brand-loyal to them because they regularly update the bus stop shelter I pass every day. What will it be today, bebe? Classy, sassy, or skanky?
But am I wrong in thinking that Omax crosses a line here? That objectification is one thing when bebe, the model, and I are all in on the deal. But it's another thing to promote stealing secret shots of unknowing subjects -- no matter how hot they are, right?
So, I think I'll take my business elsewhere, Omax.
Nikon, Olympus, what new products do you have to offer? And how will you communicate their benefits?
Oh, jeez. Readers, why must camera companies advertise through visual puns which probably go to far? More is better... Auto focus... Get it? Ugh.
It's been a busy week in swimsuit news. I can't say that I follow swimsuit news, but it was hard to avoid it this week.
FINA, the international governing body for swimming, voted to ban the high-tech body suits we saw so much of at the Beijing Olympics. I listened to the story on NPR on Saturday morning while I was sipping coffee and trying to come to life. Imagine me, in my still-dreamy state, awaiting a story about competitive swimmers who wear too much. Heaven. Listen to the NPR story or read the transcript.
Turns out that FINA sets maximum coverage for swimsuits. Yes, maximum. Just in case you want to know, FINA's new swimsuit standard for men is: "The swimsuit shall not extend above the navel or below the knees." SG, I am sure there also are standards for women's suits, but I didn't read that far.
BTW, FINA needs to extend its reach beyond the competitive arena and zoom over to my neighborhood pool. Read the rules. Suits at the navel, guys. Not under the armpits, Pop Pop, or hanging off your hip bones, Dude.
Back to the news.
FINA also put out some regulations about approved fabrics. And not a moment too early. Yesterday I learned that this magic, uber-high-tech swimsuit material has been tearing, causing wardrobe malfunctions. The swimsuit tears are "becoming increasingly common as swimmers sought the tightest-fitting suits possible for the greatest performance-enhancement," swim pub Reach for the Wall reports.
Oh, the inhumanity! On Sunday, U.S. Swimmer Ricky Berens, competing in the 4x100 meters freestyle relay at the World Championships in Rome, experienced a backside blowout.
Here's more from Reach for the Wall about the suit malfunction, but indulge me as I refer to my favorite paragraphs.
"As Ricky Berens, scheduled to swim third for the U.S. morning swim squad, bent over on the pool deck for a drink of water moments before the race, his suit -- a Jaked01--split significantly in the back, exposing his rear end.
"There was no time to change the suit, so U.S. anchor leg Cullen Jones urged Berens to forget the gaping hole and swim."
Not even Gay Guy would try to pull off that kind of reporting.
Berens has been a good sport about it: "I felt I was putting on a pretty good show," he said. Nice to see a guy who doesn't take himself too seriously. Not so much for swimmer Flavia Zoccari, who couldn't go with the flow, and withdrew from a race in tears when her suit tore in a similar fashion in competition in June.
Just how tight are those suits? I know I am just being an adolescent boy with my giggles over the candy spilling out of the Speedos.
The most fun all the coverage on the coverage, if you will, has been seeing the range of detail in the photos of Berens' bare back end, from the modest to the marvelous--as in the photo above.
The article portrays a gay life that I don't have any familiarity with . . and probably don't want any familiarity with. Do straights think this is how gays live, at least urban, professional gay couples without kids. For me, the guys in the article might as well live on another planet.
First of all, this couple -- who've now broken-up, which is the nut of the article--are only in their early 30s and must have well over $1 million in mortgages on their two places. My friends (gay and straight) and I live more modest lifestyles still: We are still safely under the six-figure salary mark, are saving to buy, or live in condos or starter houses. My coupled friends can afford bigger and better space, but we all live in a normal zone. Those of us who own our places appreciate the tax deduction, but also spend a certain amount of time listening to and waiting for appliances to die. In my condo, it's a photo finish to see which memorial service comes first -- the dishwasher or washer/dryer. My one friend with a grand townhouse and beach house has a now-ex partner who has an unnaturally good head for real estate. The now-ex partner got the house, my friend found freedom in a condo.
In other words, the men in the NYT article just live a different life and breath different air than I do. Part of me is jealous of the New York apartment and country house straight out of the movies. Part of me knows that money doesn't buy happiness, thank you Mom, as the article points out.
Two things to note in the article:
1) Blogging about their lives contributed to their break-up. The one blogged about didn't want such a public existence. 2) The article is a bird's eye view of a party they gave. They were to have a commitment ceremony and had invited friends from afar and made deposits that couldn't be returned. Although they broke up three months before the event, they went ahead with it.
One half of the now-dissolved partnership brought a date to the commitment ceremony turned final lake house hurrah.
Mom was also right that money doesn't buy class, good manners, or sensitivity either.
