Throwing a dart at a board.
You really didn’t want to talk about it.
Sometimes, you thought it might even be just a rite of passage: everybody endures name-calling at one time or another, right? Everybody’s bullied at some time.
“The Marriage Act: The Risk I Took to Keep My best Friend in America, and What It Taught Us About Love” by Liza Monroyc.2014, Soft Skull Press$16.95 / $20.95 Canada320 page
A little of this and a little of that.
You’ve planned for it, dreamed of it, wished it would happen. You imagined yourself with it and envied those who had it: family, vacation, money, success, a sibling, a pony. Whatever it was, it’s been your most fervent desire since forever.
Ok, pay attention.
Sometimes, that’s all you need: just someone to watch you, to hear what you’re saying or understand your feelings. A little attention can be a bad-mood squasher, a good-mood enhancer or just validation.
Your mind may already be made up.
You always hold doors open.
That’s because your mama taught you to help others; you hold doors for stragglers, lend your ear, dispense advice, volunteer, donate and keep an eye on your neighbor’s house.
You used to need a map to know that info but these days a voice from a screen tells you where to go on your trip.
Sometimes, you wish you had a better memory.
Why do you stay with the one you love?
“’You Can Tell Just By Looking’ And 20 Other Myths about LGBT Life and People” by Michael Bronski, Ann Pellegrini, and Michael Amicoc.2013, Beacon Press$16.00 / $18.00 Canada190 pages
LOS ANGELES (AP) -- A gay couple who have been together for almost four decades are separated -- at least physically -- by factors beyond their control in "Love Is Strange," the latest tender and meandering exploration of human relationships from indie darling Ira Sachs ("Keep the Lights On," ''Forty Shades of Blue").
We gays are famous for adding “s” to things, and when it comes to Audis, I highly recommend adding an “s” before the name Q5.
Author Jim Provenzano, whom I sometimes work with at San Francisco's Bay Area Reporter (Provenzano is the nightlife editor), is a hopeless romantic. He's also a staunch advocate for people with disabilities. In his 2012 novel "Every Time I Think of You," he chronicled the tender love story of Reid and Everett, two young men who fall deeply in love during the late 1970s. Everett, a paraplegic, is confined to a wheelchair, while Reid is fully able-bodied. The boys also come from opposite sides of the tracks — Everett is from a wealthy and influential family while Reid's parents are working-class.
Don't get Rod Thomas confused with Rob Thomas from Matchbox 20. The gay Welsh singer, also known as Bright Light Bright Light (named after a quote from the film Gremlins) didn't turn up yesterday.
Personal preference in music is determined when one finds something in a song, album or artist that they can relate to or that grabs a hold of them, inspiring and moving them in a way others cannot. It’s 2014, and it seems most pop artists are groomed for the sole purpose of making money, lining the pockets of people who couldn’t care less about the consumer or the artist. It's like art has been taken out of art and replaced with nothing real or important. Art Pop, my ass.
Sinead O'Connor is one of the last living rebels in popular music. She stood alone in her convictions on the stage of SNL as she brazenly tore up a picture of the pope, then held the remains out to the camera. She was trying to bring attention to rampant child abuse in the Catholic Church. Shortly after, her albums were famously steamrolled in the streets of NYC, music career be damned.
Let's talk about House. It's been about twenty years since what is considered to be the golden age of House Music. The majority of vinyl dance shops have long shuttered their doors and the iconic Technique 1200 is gathering dust. Today, most DJ's exclusively play digital files in their sets. Nightlife has changed considerably as well, and not for the better. DJ's with little to no talent for mixing music are making bank. DJ Pauly D or Paris Hilton anyone?
Young love can be uplifting and empowering, but for Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, two Chicago teens growing up in the 1920s, their romance would become twisted, a tale of domination and submission and ultimately, murder.