Tuesday, September 30, 2014




 I'm sitting under the rainbow umbrella with Swedish photographer Kate Orne. She's doing a little background interview before our scheduled photo session. The usual topics are visited: When did you move to the sticks? How did you become interested in religion? What are your thoughts on hunting and gun control? I separate the two issues and dive straight into my most recent thoughts on gun control. But first, lets talk about terrorism.
    I'd make a great terrorist......in theory. Like I've always said, I'd also make a great homosexual .....except for the cock, or "cack" as they say in Rochester. I love every thing about being gay, a strong aesthetic, a better career, cool clothes, a sweet disposition, a soft approach to life. It all works for me , except for the nitty-gritty. You put it there and then there?  Icky.  That's just me. But just like my aversion to sucking dick, I could never really follow through on all the killing and mayhem expected of a "real" terrorist. Yet, as an idea man I have no equal. I got a few plots percolating that would send chills down your spine. In fact, they are so good, i dare not even write them down, for fear some nut job, reading my blog would put the wheels in motion. But back to the interview.
   Before i knew what I was saying, I was telling Kate my recent stance on carrying a handgun. Although I can legally carry a firearm (in NYS not NYC) I've never felt the need to do so for self protection. Plus my 9mm Ruger is a bit large and uncomfortable to really fit the bill as a concealed carry piece. Yet, what i found myself babbling about is the need for an armed citizenry to provide a public service to those in dire need. Case in point: the beheading of a woman at a processing plant in Oklahoma last week. The only thing that stopped that man from continuing to chop heads off was the boss, who just happened to be a part time deputy sheriff, and came to work packing. His quick thinking and ability to take action, stopped further bloodshed.
    I'm just thinking out loud here, but what if we put guns in the hands of the intellectuals, the intelligentsia, the artists, musicians, writers, poets......? Forget the soccer moms and ex military knuckleheads who are already armed. I'm talking college professors and Sunday School teachers. Sure we'd have to train them, but they are already smart and sensitive. They would be able to pick it up in no time. No longer would only the cops, the maniacs, the criminals and the George Zimmermans be strapped. I may be way off here, but I am thinking about buying a new, smaller, easily concealable handgun, and carrying it religiously. I sure hope I'd never have to use it on another human being. But if somebody's head is about to get cut off at the Rock Hill Diner, wouldn't you want me sitting, armed and ready, in my regular booth? I just hope there isn't a be speckled phD. at the counter who mistakes me for one of the bad guys. Maybe I should also carry my MFA with my pistol permit. Don't shoot. I'm educated.    

Sunday, September 28, 2014

LIGHTING UP BENNINGTON (solar lights installed in front of college sign)

Friday, September 26, 2014




There is nothing more decadently capitalistic than wearing an expensive fragrance. Chanel #5 the iconic perfume of the rich is now being challenged by a Cuban company's answer to smelling good. Fidel may have a closet full of thousand dollar suits and bottles of Pour Homme, but the people of the island have been on their own with their stank since 1959, when the perfume pipeline was cut off. Never fear. Taking a cue from the Chinese, the Cubans are forming their own version of market capitalism. If Alibaba can float one of the hottest IPOs in recent history, Raul can loosen the rules enough to allow a company to develop two fragrances (I think for men) called HUGO (as in Chavez, not Boss) and ERNESTO ( as in Guervera). I may have watched too much MAD MEN, but wouldn't CHE have been sexier?
   Although they are calling this a perfume, I think it's more of a cologne. But I'm sure it's just a start. My vote would be LUCIA (after the famous film) for the femalecentric scent. Having visited the Museo de Revolucion in Havana, i remember many women martyrs of the Cuban struggle.  Pick one. Combining politics and smell seems a natural. But beware companeros, it is a slippery slope. One of the things that is so beautifully apparent when visiting Havana is the lack of advertising. The only billboards one sees are devoted to Camillo, and Che and la revolucion. It's such a breath of fresh air. You would never think a lack of something would be so beautiful, but it is. I haven't been back since '03 and I know things have changed. Raul allows car and real estate ownership, internet, easier travel, etc. But the problem remains that the average Cuban can not afford any of these things. Economy is still the big issue.
  The Cubans I know are successful artists with deep pockets. They are not affected. They are the true avant guard for a society in flux. Most come and go from island for either Spain or the USA with credit cards and bank accounts. One of these days I will get back to Cuba, maybe get a little time share for February, when the hawk is at the door here on the mountain. By that time, the rules may be loose enough for a gringo like me to set up a little shop selling toilet seats and skateboards, or maybe even perfume. Smells like revolution to me.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014




After a week visiting "civilization", otherwise known as SF, I can appreciate that Alaskan news anchor's  parting words, as she left her day job to concentrate on legalizing marijuana in the state. Close to 50 years as a pot smoker, and here in NY I still risk arrest, am forced to deal with underground dealers, and never know what i'm buying. Sativa? Indica? Furgetaboutit. I buy pot. Even though California only has "medical" marijuana, everyone is in on the joke. Pot doctors, in seedy little offices, pretend to diagnose various maladies that marijuana may help. Can't sleep? Nervous? Anxious in crowds? Anxious alone? It's a bottomless pit of of reasons to imbibe. The doc makes a cut. The dispensaries uphold the rules and the entire population is "sick", hoping to be cured by the green. It's a joke, but it works.
    Unlike Col. or Wash. there is no marijuana tourism in Cali. While visiting i half-heartedly tried to get a medical marijuana card. First step: get a California ID. This means going to DMV. The one office in the entire city is on the pan handle off Oak St. It hasn't changed since I got my Cal. driver's license in 1975. I recognized the Asian security guard. "Which line for ID?" He grunted and pointed to a line that snaked out the door and around the corner. Fuck it. No pot card is worth a day at the DMV. Now lets torch one.
   I tagged along as El Prof. renewed his card and re-stocked the larder, just to observe the process. The beauty of buying your weed at a dispensary is you are given information. Edibles, earwax, indica, sativa....... whaddaya want? The people are knowlegible and friendly Why should we be denied our medicine here in NY and so many other states? Why should the gov't. be denied massive taxable income, as well as tourist dollars? It's a shanda. Of course I brought some product home using the Hanson method, and for the time being it's all about "Girl Scout Cookie" and weak in the knees sativa. My glaucoma is thankful. My head is clear. If I had a day job I'd mimic that anchor: Fuck it. I quit. Roll me another.

Sunday, September 21, 2014


Just back from a week long intensive out west and starting to decompress. The leaves are just beginning to change and a chill is already creeping through the windows. I was met at the airport by Shewho and new kitten Cheeky in the front seat. Turned out the cat was in some sort of feline stupor that had freaked Shewho out, so it was straight from airport to the Vet's waiting room. Fuck! I'd been up since 3:30 am and now was dead tired, awaiting the verdict on a sick kitten. Welcome home.
   After some bladder squeezing and dick pulling (Cheeky's not mine), the cat perked up and in no time was doing flips and chasing it's tail. Phew! Disaster averted. After a good night's sleep, I'm ready to reflect on my week in SF. My hosts were El Prof. and La Prof., the SFAI educating power couple I know so well. I had a room to myself, with Netflicks and a steady supply of edibles for the most pleasant of golden slumbers, after a day of reading or hanging with my hosts.  After the successful lecture we chilled, ate well, smoke flowers and i eased into my unscripted week. On Tues. La Prof. invited me to do an informal appearance at her class entitled "Selfie".
   SF in general and SFAI in particular is a community of very self-aware, enlightened, POLITICALLY CORRECT individuals. It is an environment where a trans-gendered, bi-sexual, man-woman of color, in a wheel chair, can feel right at home.  As an old white man from another era, I'm a bit of a rarity. No matter. I'm always happy to explain my work. The class went well, until I was asked to  elaborate on the CLGM. I made the off-hand comment that "We make fun of everybody: Gays, Straights, Christian, Jew, believer or non-believer.....except of course, the Muslims. We leave them alone. They have no sense of humor." I could sense a chill come over the room. I immediately addressed it and back tracked a bit. Too late. The non-PC cat was out of the bag.
   La Prof. shifted and frowned. It was a stupid comment on my part. I should've known better than to generalize like that within the academic setting. If I could take it back i would. Yet, the students didn't sweat it, so we let it go. No harm, no foul. I guess I should have said something like- "The church is a sanctuary for sacrilege, or a bastion of irreverence.", but I was working off the cuff, without a net. In essence we make fun of ourselves. Once back at the shack, El prof. picked up the ball and ran with it. As the chicken burned on the grill he and I went toe to toe in an intellectual dissection of my comments to the Selfie class that became rather heated.  Awwwww......self awareness comes at a heavy price. Yet, as with most old friends we can argue without coming to blows. No guns were drawn and when the dust settled I think both sides could acknowledge the other. Domestic endurance (having a house guest) can be a bitch. Thanks to all in SF and at SFAI. My trip was eye-opening and great. I hope I came back a better man. Maybe it's time for that Arabic sign in the front yard. As-salamu-alaikum. That sounds Hawaiian.

Thursday, September 18, 2014



Saturday, September 13, 2014




The fog is lifting. The big Coit Tower phallus is poking up through a thick, white, morning blanket of mist. If I crane my neck, while leaning over my third floor balcony at the Columbus Motor Inn, I can see it clearly. A homeless person is leaning against the brick wall of the building across the street, taking a leak. SF treats its homeless  as good (or better) than PETA looks after the furry creatures of the world. Some are crackheads, skeeze balls, skanks and faceless ass sniffers....from way back. Down on their luck, dirty, bleary-eyed and angry, some are just poor lost souls. But they are all free range. Here in this magic city bed rolls on cardboard are stashed neatly in corners, under trees and right on the side walk. No one fucks with them. The homeless are as welcome as the seals and the parrots, just one of the many tourist attractions SF offers.
    I've come to SF to deliver a lecture as part of The San Francisco Art Institute's Graduate Lecture Series. I've done this gig before, but not since 2001, right before the towers went down. A lot has happened in 13 years. As luck would have it I flew out on Thurs.- 9/11. Aside from some seat changing, no food and a woman traveling with 2 screaming infants, two seats  away, it was a non-eventful flight. Three hours in, with those red faced little darlings screeching at the top of their lungs, I prayed for an ISIS executioner.
    I don't miss living in NYC. I can go in any time i want, but don't. But, damn if i don't miss SF. This place has a vibe all its own. I lived here from 1975- 1983. It was a way different town back then, but so was every place. I only know a couple of people here now, but with the Art Institute as a base, i know within a couple of weeks I could have a completely new community. It's easy here. Sure, it's a little heavy on Burning Man types, dot coms and pot bellied tourists, but all in all, I think I could come back.
    Yesterday's lecture went great. I filled the lecture hall and only lost one or two all the way through an hour long power point. This was after my host El Prof. looked at my 18 pages of text, huffed indignantly and told me to read fast. That's just what someone wants to hear when trying to relax before a talk. What the fuck? Did he have an appointment at Kinky.com? I tried to ignore his tight timeline, and eased into a presentation that started in 1965 with the Cardiff Giant. Fuck. Maybe I was gonna drone on for too long. My mouth went dry and i started to sweat. Easy- I told myself. You got this.
   In the end the talk was a success. The students dug it. The faculty shook my hand and even El Prof. had to admit I had done good. Nailed it! Fist bump.  Now i have a week in SF and an open schedule. Maybe I'll catch a game in Oakland, or do a couple of more studio visits with students, or drive El Prof.'s golf cart while he chips a few. It's great to be back. Smell that air! If they only had good deer hunting......

Tuesday, September 9, 2014


Sunday, September 7, 2014


Saturday, September 6, 2014



Leader of the free gift giving world S. Claus was executed yesterday by The Islamic State. It had been widely reported that the rosey cheeked philanthropist had been missing from his workshop for some time now.  Speculation had been rampant as the shopping season fast approached, leaving his inner circle of elves leaderless at a time of great importance in the decision making process. At first it was rumored that Mr. and Mrs. Claus had taken a well deserved vacation with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. But when Mrs. Claus turned up in rehab and the power couple were not in attendance at Brangelina's recent nuptials, North Pole resident's worst fears were confirmed.
   It seems while on a sleigh ride over Ukraine early in the summer (possibly ordered by the CIA) Rudolf was struck by a stinger missile, sending the sled into a downward spiral and crash. The surviving reindeer were reportedly executed and eaten by Ukrainian forces. Santa was then taken prisoner and traded with ISIS fighters in return for 20 cases vodka and a promise to crucify Putin. In a Youtube video released yesterday Santa appears clean shaved, confused and in an orange jump suit, kneeling before his steak knife wielding executioner.  He seemed to have lost the twinkle in his eye. He addressed the boys and girls of the world, telling them that this year he would not be keeping track of who was naughty or nice, and basically everybody was on their own. He advised moms and dads to shop early and mentioned that the new iphone was.......and then he was decapitated.

   Condolences from around the world have poured into Santa's North Pole workshop. Mrs. Claus, who remains in seclusion, released a statement expressing her deep sorrow at the loss of her husband and echoed his sentiments, also encouraging everyone to shop early and not be swayed by Samsung's new product line. She wore a red, white and blue apple on her holiday sweater. In a rare move of solidarity with Elfin forces President Obama suggested changing CHRISTMAS to CLAUSMAS, removing CHRIST once and for all from the holiday. How this will effect the economy is anyone's guess.  As the world mourns the loss of a great capitalist icon, one can only speculate where this will all end. The EASTER BUNNY did not return any of our calls. Pray for his safety.    

Monday, September 1, 2014



ANSHEI WALL (Wall of the People)