In one of his many brilliant NEW RULES segments last year, Bill Maher stated (and I paraphrase), “Of course not all Republicans are racist – it would be stupid to say that. But if you are a racist, you’re probably Republican”. It was astoundingly simple and absolutely true.
But the term RACIST could be interchanged with HOMOPHOBIC, or the word HATEFUL, in general.
“Of course not all Republicans are HOMOPHOBIC. But if you are HOMOPHOBIC, you’re probably Republican.”
“Of course not all Republicans are HATEFUL. But if you are HATEFUL you’re probably Republican.”
I’ll give the Republican Party this – at least they’re BOLD with their hatred for their fellow countrymen. What irks me is COWARDICE. If you hate, then EMBRACE YOUR HATE, and stop the mendacity about NOT being filled with such hate. Reading through Texas’ 2010 STATE REPUBLICAN PARTY PLATFORM, you’ll find segments seeped with such vitriolic enmity. Yet, ask any Republican politician and they’d never admit such animosity. Cowards.
Once upon a time, hating your fellow man in politics was fringe-based – politicians weren’t so obvious. These past few years, it’s out in full force more powerfully than ever before.
If Texas Republicans have their way, we’ll have to rename America THE UNITED STATES OF HATE:
Some quick thoughts on this year’s Emmy Awards nominations.
With 19 nods, TVs latest phenom, the enchanting wunderkind GLEE leads the pack at this years Emmy race, and as an unabashedly proud GLEEK, I couldn’t be happier (only HBOs miniseries THE PACIFIC garnered more noms – twenty-four!!!) Lea Michele and Matthew Morrison were shoo-ins for the Lead Actress and Actor category, as was timeless Jane Lynch a given in the Supporting Actress category race. But, in an unexpected, delightful turn, Chris Colfer was recognized in the Supporting Actor Comedy category for his exemplary work as gay teen Kurt Hummel! And, to add more cookies to the ice cream, comedian Mike O’Malley was nominated as Outstanding Guest Actor for his portrayal of Burt Hummel, Kurt’s totally supportive, conflicted father. Rarely has the angst, fear, confusion, terror and finally, unmitigated joy of a gay teen coming out to himself, his friends,and a parent so splendidly and perfectly portrayed, and even rarer is the beautiful interaction of father and son in such scenes. Kudos to both for their most deserved noms.
Colfer’s in great company. As an act of solidarity, the cast of TVs great, neo-classic MODERN FAMILY submitted themselves in the Supporting categories. But a question for the ages is, how do you nominate every adult actor yet fail to recognize the ACTUAL STAR OF THE SHOW (and my favorite in the ensemble)? Ed O’Neil’s snub as the crotchety patriarch with a secret heart of mush Jay Pritchett is a glaringly stupid omission. This is not to negate nominees Jesse Tyler Ferguson or Eric Stonestreet, as the gay couple with a recently adopted child, or the brilliant Ty Burrell as the clumsily hip Phil Dunphy (or for that matter, Julie Bowen as Claire Dunphy or Sofia Vergara as Gloria Delgado-Pritchett). But O’Neill is the rack that holds the pool balls together. Included in the Supporting Actor Comedy category is the always riotous Neil Patrick Harris as Barney Stinson in the still-awesome-after-all-these-years HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER. (Incidentally enough, Harris was ALSO nominated for his Bryan Ryan guest role on GLEE). That Jon Cryer continues to get nominated for the still-unwatchable-after-all-these-years TWO AND A HALF MEN remains a mystery.
*****
There was Emmy love for LOST as well, and, despite its controversial final episode, the accolades are deserved – this final season was its most exciting, powerful, moving and finely acted since its first. Besides its citation for Outstanding Drama Series, Matthew Fox’s portrayal of Jack Shepard was finally recognized – and long overdue. Along with perpetual Supporting Actor nominees Terry O’Quinn as John Locke and Michael Emerson as Ben Linus (I don’t watch MAD MENor MEN OR A CERTAIN AGE, so I can’t root for John Slattery or Andre Braugher, respectively, but I just started watching season one of acclaimed BREAKING BAD so congrats to Adrian Paul), I was thrilled that the magical Elizabeth Mitchell was singled out in the Outstanding Guest Actress for her Juliet Burke.
Obligatory Beauty
*****
There should be hell to pay if John Lithgow does NOT receive the Emmy for Outstanding Guest Actor in a Drama Series for his astonishing portrayal in DEXTER – quite possibly the most riveting juxtaposition of evil and redemption I’ve ever witnessed in this medium, his depiction of serial killer Arthur Mitchell was – and remains – a revelation. And Michael C. Hall’s title role should be another surefire victory – the psychological manipulation and weekly mind-fucking between the two characters is a new archetype of performance art. And, yes, it should win OUTSTANDING DRAMA SERIES.
Other faves of mine were on ample display this year with nominations. NURSE JACKIE was well-represented with eight nods (including Outstanding Actress in a Comedy nominee Edie Falco, Outstanding Comedy Series and Outstanding Guest Actor in a Comedy for Eli Wallach). Two for UNITED STATES OF TARA (including Outstanding Actress in a Comedy for Toni Collette). In an annual tradition, 30 Rock was nominated copiously (it won Outstanding Comedy three times) in most categories, including perennial favorites Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin, as well as past nominee Jane Krokowski in the Supporting Actress category). The brilliant Jim Parsons received his second consecutive Outstanding Lead Actor nominee for the hilarious BIG BANG THEORY (once again one of the funniest, most smartly written shows on TV was snubbed in the Outstanding Comedy category, though it was a delight to see Christine Baranski pick up an Outstanding Guest Actress nominee for her portrayal of Leonard’s (Johnny Galecki) mother). Julia Louis-Dreyfus picked up another nod for the final season of the still-biting NEW ADVENTURES OF OLD CHRISTINE, though the series had dwindled this past year.
The moment that made me proverbially cheer the loudest was also the sweetest revenge – nominated for Outstanding Variety, Music or Comedy Series was THE TONIGHT SHOW…WITH CONAN O’BRIEN!! Take that, Jay Leno, you back-stabbing, loathsome prick.
And, of course, there were the usual curios, head-scratchers and moments of revel. The continual omission of CHUCK only proves the Emmy’s snobbery. The inclusion of Tony Shaloub for the dreadful MONK AGAIN proves their lack of spontaneity. SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE was snubbed once again in the Outstanding Reality Competition, even though there’s more talent in one backstage leg warmer than all the earwig’s combined on the worst season yet of nominee AMERICAN IDOL. Despite the aforementioned nods, it would have been justice to throw in a few other nominations for LOST‘s other cast members (Jorge Garcia, Josh Holloway and the exceptional Yunjin Kim immediately pop to mind). And no love for UGLY BETTY‘s final season, its best since its first? And snubs for two of TVs best dramas, SOUTHLAND and PARENTHOOD, even though the complete shut-out of BROTHERS & SISTERS and GREY’S ANATOMY was a welcome relief? Not cool. Nor was the incessant rebuffing of the aforementioned BIG BANG THEORY and HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER in the Outstanding Comedy Series. But I’m also beyond thrilled that enchanting past Emmy winner (for my long-lamented favorite PUSHING DAISIES) Kristen Chenoweth was cited for her guest role as April Rhodes in GLEE.
It’s fair to say that I don’t watch – or have never seen – many of the shows in which the seeming bulk of the acting nominees were cited for. MAD MEN, FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS, THE GOOD WIFE, DAMAGES, HOUSE have all been perpetual nominees in the past (save for FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS and the freshman drama THE GOOD WIFE) and on my radar, but never etched a spark in my TV-viewing habits. Long allergic to anything vampiric, I’ve also never seen an episode of Outstanding Drama nominee TRUE BLOOD.
In a year of stellar acting, irreproachable drama and comedic heights, the only real depressing moment could be if unremitting douche-bag Ryan Seacrest – nominated twice…TWICE! – walks away holding sweet Emmy in the palm of his hands.
*****
You can see the full list of nominees HERE. The Emmy Awards will be held live August 29th.
Went to see the Tony-nominated Best Musical MILLION DOLLAR QUARTET last night, thanks to a co-worker’s extra ticket. It wasn’t a perfect production, but it was enjoyable on the jukebox musical genre level that’s sadly permeated Broadway in recent years.
A semi-fictionalized account based on the iconic photo of Carl Perkins, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash and Jerry Lee Lewis (above) during an impromptu recording session one afternoon at Sam Phillips’ Sun studio in 1956, the show’s main saving grace came in the form of singer/songwriter Levi Kreis. In a performance that could have teetered toward cartoonish buffoonery, which would have been easy within the conventional storytelling mechanism of the book AND the fact that he portrayed Jerry Lee Lewis, Kreis infused the show with unabashed energy, charisma and an astonishing musical dexterity. He was a powder keg exploding – his Tony Award was well deserved.
I’ve never heard of Steve Hughes before coming across this clip posted by one of my Facebook groups, WIPEOUT HOMOPHOBIA ON FACEBOOK, and according to his Wikipedia page, he was a member/founder of various thrash metal bands through the 80s and 90s in his native Australia. Such genre bands are not exactly the bastions of thought-provoking tolerance, nor, I surmise, fun-loving, daffy, slap-my-knee hilarious all-inclusive jesters. Knowing his history after-the-fact, it came as a delightful surprise at how funny Hughes is. After watching this clip, I found myself spelunking YouTube for other Hughes posts, which are aplenty, and I’ve been laughing all morning.
In this clip, focusing on the hard-edged, fag-bashing culture that is Thrash Metal, the heterosexual Hughes makes the brilliant distinction between what is considered to be “gay” and what constitutes pure masculinity. You might be surprised at how correct he is.
Could “That’s so straight!” be the new “That’s so gay!”? Or as Hughes more steadfastly puts it, “Straight. It’s the new gay.”
I heard the voices beyond the mountains….the roar of magical laughter, as if the dark shroud of midnight has, at long last, enlightened from its dormancy to shine again.
To see these faces again is to understand timelessness; to be in their presence was to feel how minute time really is.
Facebook, as I’ve often defended to it’s increasing claque of naysayers, has been a great tool for many reasons, especially for we, the catalysts, in our searches – not for the long-lost youth we’d be imprudent to hope for, but for those friends who’ve floated onto other paths because, well…life happens. And it granted one wish of mine…to see my friends again…
So here we were, gathered, like her children beckoned home…to celebrate Anne’s retirement. And it was as if mere months, weeks, days – even moments – had abated instead of the actual decades that filled the scope between. How can that be? How can it be that the billions of instances have dissipated into mere fragments of time? How can the once intangible feel so innately corporeal?
That is the power of true friendship. Years drift, storms pass, (again) life happens, and the sojourns once so clearly embarked upon twist into countless labyrinths until you somehow lose your way from the palpable breath you once shared. Yet, the invisible threads – those ghosts that haunt you – are what forever connects you. And, eventually, if you tug long enough, even if ever-so-delicately, you eventually pull your hearts together to once again gather in the sanctuary that is friendship.
Friends and loved ones of the enchanting Dianne and Theresa understand that to know them is to love them, sure, but it is also to howl with unparalleled abandon…I haven’t laughed as I laughed this evening in so long it that it pained my gut for hours, temporarily losing my voice in the process.
Incandescent Nissa – my once-upon-a-time musical muse has the most infectious laugh that only parallels her natural beauty (it was a dream come true – and a hoot – recreating, to the best of our memory – an out-take of our ‘album cover’ that we took back in 1985 on Staten Island).
Nissa and I try to recreate an out-take of our 1985 album cover…The original…
Julie and Lillian (like Theresa and Dianne) seemingly have portraits slowly aging in the attic, because time has only enchanted them. Again, how? And to have Spike – a constant in my life for over 30 years – share this experience was a natural. He was Anne’s musical compatriot during most of our shows and bore witness to thousands of hours of our memories.
And Luz, oh Luz…what she did had me in awe. Having the honor of hearing that…that…VOICE…sing MEMORY, after far too many years, was akin to having the gates of heaven open and the angels sing upon us. And, still I quiver in the wonderment of the moment. Luz’s dedication was a spur of the moment decision – a gorgeous way of honoring Anne, decades after she performed it during the 1983 International Festival Of The Arts to such an astounding ovation (in which Anne, of course, accompanied on piano) that an encore was immediately heralded. A highlight of the night was sitting at our table while the party danced, quoting the lyrics for Luz while she wrote them on a used envelope because a sheet of paper was nowhere to be found.
Luz surprises Anne with a most special, hauntingly beautiful MEMORY…
And, as she sang (and before the first verse was even finished) Table 2 (our table) was in tears…again…
Julie, Dianne, Lillian and Theresa weep at the MEMORIES….…and so do I…
*****
And what of Anne? Words can be spoken or written celebrating Anne and her years as an educator, as a musical icon, as a sister, daughter, friend. But those words, as true as any words would ever be spoken or written, wouldn’t (couldn’t) do justice to the woman she is. I will never forget when she held my hand through my dark ages…for giving me a home when I had no home, for giving me a spirit when I lost my soul…all those years ago…with unconditional love, because, well, that was…is…Anne.
Lillian said it best when she so eloquently and beautifully wrote, to Anne:
Ms. Rebold….I had to find the words to give you the utmost and most sincere Thank You I could find from the bottom of my heart….so here it is….as if our actions could not speak any louder…..I hope you realize just as I did Wednesday nite…just how special and truly a part of my life you have remained for the last 27 years. Having an 18 year old now….and experiencing the teenage realities through her….really brings closure to me as to the very big role you actually played in my life off stage as well as on stage. Looking around the table at all the old familiar faces just made me realize how many of our gaps you were able to close for us at this very delicate age. We all dealt with…as many teenagers do….insecurities that could have affected our life long term. You, my dear, sweet, teacher, friend, mentor…..managed to close those gaps for us….helping us to build each of our individual beautiful bridges of life……Wednesday night…you turned on the lights of those bridges for all of us and made us realize what a “Spectacular” show our “Memories” will always be. Love you!! Please stay in touch. xoxoxoxo Lillian Mandracchia
Such has been the impact of Anne Rebold…
*****
Twenty-seven years ago, during some of my most starless days, I wrote the following song for Anne. And twenty-seven years later, not a single word can be changed. Time knows no limits when you’re unafraid, and, while the distance prevailed, again, love remained behind. The opportunity and privilege to still be able to call her my friend makes my heart glad…
to be (Re)bold…
Who may be so wrong…
they may never be so right?
I sailed so often to hell and back
I lived through all the unfaithful attacks
I survived the coincidences
and all the love I lacked
But I had you on my left wing
While we rode the serpents back
With you I steered through polluted skies
With you I made stable the hurricane sighs
As I glanced into the mirror
and simply asked “why?”
I couldn’t see my reflection until there appeared your eyes
Who may live through jovial times…
…alone yet baring no fight?
But through it all you grasped my hand
I could lay my head upon your shoulder
You didn’t mind my endless tears
You lifted me, eminent, made me bolder
You placed me upon the pedestal
So high…
…as high as Mount Olympus
And I cried…Mother Earth, how I cried
Yet, through it all
…through the invisible figure in the mirror
…through the blinded eyes within my soul
…through the abysmal depths of pain I endured
I had you there, tangible and wise
I had your soul…from a child to man
…to be (Re)bold
Congratulations again, Anne. Along with Dianne, Theresa, Nissa, Luz, Lillian, Julie and Spike – and the others who so wanted to be here on this night but could not – I raise the proverbial glass and honor you – and all of us. Here’s to yesterday, here’s to today, here’s to tomorrow….
***All photos by Kathy Valentine (except “the original” of Nissa and me)
Sure, Train’s “Hey Soul Sister” has some of the most cringe-inducing lyrics of the year. I mean, here’s a sample:
You gave my life direction, a game show love connection we can’t deny
I’m so obsessed, my heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest
I believe in you, like a virgin, you’re Madonna, and I’m always gonna wanna blow your mind
If that’s not enough to convince you, consider the first line of each chorus, which sings, “Hey soul sister, ain’t that Mister Mister on the radio…?” No, really.
But, as someone who is not ashamed to declare their song “Drops Of Jupiter” a veritable classic (and named it his favorite song of 2001), who am I to judge what moves people? Perchance Pat Monahan’s been listening to way too much Jason Mraz lately, but, hey, if it works for Mr. A to Z, why not Train? And come on! Monahan’s accompanied by a ukulele! A UKULELE! How do you NOT love a ukulele?
But, I feel I’m skewering off topic, so let’s just chuck “Hey Soul Sister” as yet another indelible, pop-culture phenomenon in their canon and forge ahead.
Love Train or loathe them, you’d have to be a soul-free, deadened automaton not to delight in the sheer cheesy, unmitigated joy of this video, performed by the students of Canada’s University Of Victoria (UVic). As a steadicam sojourns throughout the campus in a non-interrupted flow, the students and faculty at UVic redefines the archetype for “school spirit” as I’ve never seen before. It’s awkward, exhilarating, joyous and silly, and even perhaps a bit too lengthy. And it makes me smile for 6.5 glorious minutes.
I remember it so clearly, like foghorns howling in the night’s sky, those dark and simmering times…when a new disease reared its horrifying head. It was God’s punishment on the most hedonistic of lifestyles; it was the sinners getting their just rewards. It was the “gay man’s” disease, and so few cared of the potential devastation left in its demonic hands…
But AIDS wasn’t any of that or the evil verbosity spewed from the religious zealots and one would surmise that the hate-mongers would be silenced, even momentarily, when confronting the new face of the disease. One would be wrong. An innocent child merely became a victim of his hateful neighbors and became the mirror which reflected the animosity.
It’s hard to believe that it’s been over two decades since the nightmare Ryan and his family had to endure at the hands of hatred and fear, intimidation and turmoil, and the grace he and his mother displayed like a the most brilliant beacon in the darkest corridors of hell.
By wanting nothing more than to be the child he was, he begot a legacy that never should have been. But one in which humanity owes – and bestows upon – him and Jeanne.
Ryan would have been 39 years old this year. You can read about his brave life and even braver death HERE. Elton John’s friendship with Ryan and his family is also well documented, so there’s no need to reiterate that here. Yesterday, the Washington Post printed a letter from Elton to Ryan…twenty years later.
Elton John’s letter to Ryan White, 20 years after his death from AIDS
By Elton John
Sunday, April 25, 2010; B01
Twenty years ago this month, you died of AIDS. I would gladly give my fame and fortune if only I could have one more conversation with you, the friend who changed my life as well as the lives of millions living with HIV. Instead, I have written you this letter.
I remember so well when we first met. A young boy with a terrible disease, you were the epitome of grace. You never blamed anyone for the illness that ravaged your body or the torment and stigma you endured.
When students, parents and teachers in your community shunned you, threatened you and expelled you from school, you responded not with words of hate but with understanding beyond your years. You said they were simply afraid of what they did not know.
When the media heralded you as an “innocent victim” because you had contracted AIDS through a blood transfusion, you rejected that label and stood in solidarity with thousands of HIV-positive women and men. You reminded America that all victims of AIDS are innocent.
When you became a celebrity, you embraced the opportunity to educate the nation about the AIDS epidemic, even though your only wish was to live an ordinary life.
Ryan, I wish you could know how much the world has changed since 1990, and how much you changed it.
Young boys and girls with HIV attend school and take medicine that allows them to lead normal lives. Children in America are seldom born with the virus, and they no longer contract it through transfusions. The insults and injustices you suffered are not tolerated by society.
Most important, Ryan, you inspired awareness, which helped lead to lifesaving treatments. In 1990, four months after you died, Congress passed the Ryan White Care Act, which now provides more than $2 billion each year for AIDS medicine and treatment for half a million Americans. Today, countless people with HIV live long, productive lives.
It breaks my heart that you are not one of them. You were 18 when you died, and you would be 38 this year, if only the current treatments existed when you were sick. I think about this every day, because America needs your message of compassion as never before.
Ryan, when you were alive, your story sparked a national conversation about AIDS. But despite all the progress in the past 20 years, the dialogue has waned. I know you would be trying to revive it if you were here today, when the epidemic continues to strike nearly every demographic group, with more than 50,000 new infections in the United States each year. I know you would be loudly calling for the National HIV/AIDS Strategy that was promised by President Obama but has not yet been delivered. I know you would reach out to young people. I know you would work tirelessly to help everyone suffering from HIV, including those who live on the margins of society.
It would sadden you that today, in certain parts of the United States, some poor people with AIDS are still placed on waiting lists to receive treatment. It would anger you that your government is still not doing enough to help vulnerable people with HIV and populations that are at high risk of contracting the virus, including sexually active teenagers. It would upset you that AIDS is a leading cause of death among African Americans.
It would frustrate you that even though hundreds of thousands of HIV-positive Americans are receiving treatment in your name, more than 200,000 don’t know their HIV-positive status, largely because a lingering stigma surrounding the disease prevents them from being tested. It would disappoint you that many teenagers do not have access to science-based HIV-prevention programs in school, at a time when half of new infections are believed to be among people under 25.
I miss you so very much, Ryan. I was by your side when you died at Riley Hospital. You’ve been with me every day since. You inspired me to change my life and carry on your work. Because of you, I’m still in the struggle against AIDS, 20 years later. I pledge to not rest until we achieve the compassion for which you so bravely and beautifully fought.
Oh, you were a vampire...and I may never see the light...
*****
The Joey allude of the headline aside, of course I hold no antagonism toward Johnette Napolitano. True, post-WALKING IN LONDON, Concrete Blonde’s releases mostly meandered through head-scratchers and curios, while Johnette’s contributions to the otherwise dire NO TALKING, JUST HEADfiasco were that Talking Heads offshoot’s only (barely)palliative moments. But anger? Of course not. They became my favorite band the moment I heard the opening guitar crunch of their great God Is A Bullet single from their second album, 1989s FREE, which morphed into near obsession by the time their 1990 masterpiece BLOODLETTING was released – the bands 3rd album became my #1 album of the same year, and Top 10 of the decade. Her hauntingly beautiful reading of Coldplay’s “The Scientist” (from the soundtrack to the film WICKER PARKand her unjustly overlooked 2007 solo CD SCARRED) ranks in the tops of my most beloved cover songs.
Napolitano has long been one of my personal favorite Rock N Roll singers – a sadly unheralded (by those not in the know) exemplary vocalist, bassist and songwriter (her list of various credits could be found on her Wicki page profile HERE).
So, you could imagine how I trembled with orgasmic pleasure when I clicked onto Slicing Up Eyeballs (one of my regular go-to music blogs) and read the following:
Details are scant, but it appears Concrete Blonde is reuniting this summer after a five-year split to mark the 20th anniversary of Bloodlettingby going on tour and performing the 1990 album — with its crossover hit “Joey” and fan fave “Tomorrow, Wendy” — live in its entirety.
On its website, the band — the longtime core of singer/bassist Johnette Napolitano and guitarist James Mankey — has posted the cover of Bloodletting and this cryptic message: “Joey’s 20th Birthday / The Vampires Rise / Summer 2010″ (shown above).
At least one tour date, however, has emerged: Concrete Blonde is scheduled to perform Bloodlettingin its entirety — and Napolitano will be available for a meet-and-greet with paying fans — on June 21 at the Arvada Center for the Arts just outside of Denver, Colo.
I’m not sure what mighty powers I need to imbue the universe with, or what supernatural forces are necessary – and I don’t want to sound like a 9-year old girl who’s missing out on Justin Bieber tickets – but if this tour doesn’t pass through NY, “Like, OMG, I’ll die!” I simply cannot…will not…I refuse to miss this. A fucking meet-and-greet? Oh, sweet Mother Earth…
So, Johnette, if you’re listening (or if you’ll actually read the 500 e-mail’s I’m sure to imminently send), please do not forsake your New York fans…do not forsake ME! Please sing me…nay, sing US a…
…“Lullaby…”
When the sky has fallen
Like a blanket on your shoulder
And the moon is like a mother
Looking over you forever
And the dawn is so familiar
You were meant to be together
Like a fog around a mountain…forever
So softly…so sweetly
Surrounding you completely
Sing you a lullaby, a lullaby to you
Lullaby…a lullaby to you
When your breathing is the wind
And your crying is the rain
Well i know you will remember
Because the music is forever
The living of a lover –
And the loving of another
Like a sister to a brother
Like a father to a mother
So softly…so close to me
You’re surrounding me so beautifully
Lullaby…a lullaby to you
Latin/Pop Megastar, new father (and one of the sexiest men on the planet) Ricky Martin has finally shaken his bon bon’s publicly, smashing his own personal glass closet, and proclaimed what most of the universe has already known for years…
A few months ago I decided to write my memoirs, a project I knew was going to bring me closer to an amazing turning point in my life. From the moment I wrote the first phrase I was sure the book was the tool that was going to help me free myself from things I was carrying within me for a long time. Things that were too heavy for me to keep inside. Writing this account of my life, I got very close to my truth. And thisis something worth celebrating.
For many years, there has been only one place where I am in touch with my emotions fearlessly and that’s the stage. Being on stage fills my soul in many ways, almost completely. It’s my vice. The music, the lights and the roar of the audience are elements that make me feel capable of anything. This rush of adrenaline is incredibly addictive. I don’t ever want to stop feeling these emotions. But it is serenity that brings me to where I’m at right now. An amazing emotional place of comprehension, reflection and enlightenment. At this moment I’m feeling the same freedom I usually feel only on stage, without a doubt, I need to share.
Many people told me: “Ricky it’s not important”, “it’s not worth it”, “all the years you’ve worked and everything you’ve built will collapse”, “many people in the world are not ready to accept your truth, your reality, your nature”. Because all this advice came from people who I love dearly, I decided to move on with my life not sharing with the world my entire truth. Allowing myself to be seduced by fear and insecurity became a self-fulfilling prophecy of sabotage. Today I take full responsibility for my decisions and my actions.
If someone asked me today, “Ricky, what are you afraid of?” I would answer “the blood that runs through the streets of countries at war…child slavery, terrorism…the cynicism of some people in positions of power, the misinterpretation of faith.” But fear of my truth? Not at all! On the contrary, It fills me with strength and courage. This is just what I need especially now that I am the father of two beautiful boys that are so full of light and who with their outlook teach me new things every day. To keep living as I did up until today would be to indirectly diminish the glow that my kids where born with. Enough is enough. This has to change. This was not supposed to happen 5 or 10 years ago, it is supposed to happen now. Today is my day, this is my time, and this is my moment.
These years in silence and reflection made me stronger and reminded me that acceptance has to come from within and that this kind of truth gives me the power to conquer emotions I didn’t even know existed.
What will happen from now on? It doesn’t matter. I can only focus on what’s happening to me in this moment. The word “happiness” takes on a new meaning for me as of today. It has been a very intense process. Every word that I write in this letter is born out of love, acceptance, detachment and real contentment. Writing this is a solid step towards my inner peace and vital part of my evolution.
I am proud to say that I am a fortunate homosexual man. I am very blessed to be who I am.
****
My New Boyfriend 