Fosco: Too ugly to live?

Over the years, Fosco's friends have always had a difficult time coming up with a celebrity look-a-like for him. Now he knows why.

Fosco would like to call your attention to a (FREE) service being offered by myheritage.com: you upload a photo of yourself and their software "analyzes" it and gives you a list of celebrities that you resemble (along with the percentage similarity for each match). I have my doubts about how well it works (see below), but even so, it is way more fun than anything else you were going to do today (ah, if only I had read my Heidegger before I came across this...).

I must admit the results, for me, were not exactly an ego boost. I share them with you, in the spirit of full disclosure and because they are, well, bizarre.



(I didn't include the photo I submitted--that would be telling!--but it was a recent photo of which I am quite fond.)

Presumably you, like me, don't know who Christopher Uckermann is. It turns out he is the star of a Mexican telenovela and, consequently, he is a pop star (you know how things are in Mexico...). I found this clip of him on YouTube and while I'm not too impressed by his physical appearance (is that a mullet?), I am fascinated and perplexed by what exactly is going on in this clip. As far as I can tell, he and some guy are flipping a coin to see who has to hold onto an electric shock generator. The perplexing thing is why this goes on for over three minutes. It isn't exactly Jackass, is it...

And hold on a sec... OJ Freakin' Simpson? OJ FREAKIN' SIMPSON? I know that my head is large (and I don't mean that metaphorically)--greater than 2 standard deviations above the population mean, to tell the truth. But still, just because OJ and I have large heads (literally, not figuratively), doesn't mean we look alike. And the fact that we each have been acquitted of a double murder that we actually did commit? Well, that shouldn't show up in our facial physiognomy, right?

On the other hand, I would like to think that I have some of the boyish charm of Hal Sparks.

Luckily, when Fosco tried again with a different picture, a completely different list of celebs appeared... What could this mean? How protean is Fosco?

This has all the makings of the "meme of the week" in the blogosphere: how did it work for (occasionally hubristic) musician John Mayer? Hilariously. It turns out that he only resembles himself by 68%. Although, in all fairness, that's probably true.

Are you ready to try this for yourself? [If you have a Mac, you have to use Firefox, not Safari.] Post your results as comments on this blog and win a free... um... well, nothing. But it will be fun!

Recent Advances in Beethoven Studies

Apparently, one cannot listen to My Chemical Romance every day for two weeks without eventually desiring to hear something different. (No offense is meant to MCR: I am looking forward to the new album more than any other recording released this year.) But, for a change of pace, the other day Fosco was playing through his classical discs...

And then he had an inspiration!

You see, a number of years ago, Count Fosco was the host of weekly radio show in Charlottesville, Virginia, devoted to contemporary classical music. Probably the station is one of the few in the US that would allow such a show to exist (as the audience for contemporary classical is, um, not large). He did this for almost five years, and he loved it. So many good memories:

• chatting occasionally with a regular listener who also happens to be a well-known conservative cultural critic.
  
• playing John Cage's 4'33" live on the air. Actually, as I recall, it was fund-raising week and my cohost and I gave our fundraising pitch for 4 minutes and 33 seconds. I suspect Cage would have approved.
  
• following on air a rock show hosted by his pasty-faced Majesty.
  
• causing a station-wide obscenity crisis by (naively) playing a musical setting of Allen Ginsberg's Howl. Silly me: I thought works of art were immune from obscenity rules... (This is SO not true, it turns out--stupid Supreme Court.)

Ah, good times, temporary layoffs...

But the thing I always wanted to do the most on that show I never did. You see, I heard once (and in the last 10 minutes of Google searching, I have been unable to track down a reliable source for this--if you have one, pass it along) that John Cage once played recordings of all nine Beethoven symphonies simultaneously. Several times during my radio years, it occurred to me that I would love to play such a "mashup" on my show. However, at the time, the technical difficulties of mixing the symphonies seemed a bit too daunting for me (i.e., I had a 386 with no sound card and no speakers) and the logistical difficulties of doing it "live" seemed to offer a problem as well (i.e., there weren't even nine working channels on the station's mixing board...).

Time has passed and I now have this MacBook that comes with (pre-installed!) some program called "GarageBand"--which is basically a mixing board for complete idiots (like me!). And so, flipping through my Beethoven discs last week, I realized that I am now fully capable of listening to ALL NINE BEETHOVEN SYMPHONIES SIMULTANEOUSLY.

And, to tell you the truth, it's even better than I thought it would be.

It's not the sonic mush that you might expect (at least if you, like me, can't imagine what to expect). And, believe it or not, it is quite catchy in parts--the beginning in particular.

Because I am Fosco and I love you, my Dear Reader, I want to make this experience available to you. If you want to hear this, you can download the sound file right here.

BEFORE you start downloading, here are the qualifications, caveats, etc:
1. This is a large file. 167 MB. It will take a bit of time and bandwidth.
2. The file format is AIFF. Why? I don't know. I'm not an expert at these things: just consider yourself lucky I could do this at all.
3. This is only the first movements of all nine symphonies. To go beyond that would be too complicated for me right now.
4. Do you know how hard it is to find a free filesharing site that will allow huge files and unlimited downloads and that will work with a Mac? It's hard, so I am using RapidShare. The downside is that, to download for free, you must A) choose the FREE download button and then B) wait like 3 minutes to begin (they even have an annoying timer). Alas.
5. For copyright reasons, I'm not going to tell you which recordings I've used. Just know that they are all the same conductor and orchestra. Does the conductor's last name (sort of) rhyme with "to-mah-to"? Could be. Does the orchestra's geographical location rhyme with "Merlin"? Maybe. I ain't sayin'.
6. Is this a travesty? Bite me.

Isn't contemporary music fun? And do I even need to tell you again to visit Osti Music to listen to some of John Mackey's compositions?

Why Fosco has a cold today

Yesterday evening was the first rain of the semester and so... well... things get a little weird here at UCSC when it rains.

As Gadamer once said: a tradition isn't really a tradition until there is nudity involved.

I think Gadamer also asked (in Truth and Method I believe): how many of your students have seen your penis?

Is Mark Foley just being misread?

So there's this (now former) US Representative Mark Foley who seems to have conducted inappropriately sexual IM conversations with underage (male!) Congressional pages. This is a seamy story with many deliciously juicy angles, including:

• he was a high-ranking member of the Republican Congressional leadership.
  
• his legislative priorities were focused on "championing laws against sexual predators" (NYT)
  
• the House Republican Leadership may have known about his antics for almost a year (and kept it hush-hush).
  
• he is, apparently, that rarest of unicorns: A Gay Republican.

Is it possible to drown in irony? Glub, glub, glub...

But, perhaps we're jumping to conclusions here. As Fosco knows, IM can be a tricky way to communicate. Unfortunately, it is often the only way for one to communicate with anyone under 20. Before Fosco hired his full-time personal assistant Geoffrey, he often employed several teenage interns of his own. And let me tell you, there were some IM-related misunderstandings--often stemming from the fact that specific lines of text were taken out-of-context by concerned parents, FBI agents, etc. Is it possible that the Liberal Media is ignoring parts of these messages--the parts that would reveal that they were actually intended innocently?

To speak to that question, Fosco will present some of his own IMs to his teen boy interns that have been intentionally misinterpreted by his enemies, typically by refusing to notice the second half of each IM conversation:

Case 1
FOSCO: what r u wearing?
CASEY04: tshirt and shorts
FOSCO: love to slip them off of u
FOSCO: cuz its gonna snow
FOSCO: and if u get sick i cant give u time off
FOSCO: put on a coat

Case 2
FOSCO: i want u on all fours on my rug
TIMMY_S: huh?
FOSCO: i lost a contact. i cant see it.

Case 3
FOSCO: bring me ur underwr
HOTWRESTLER06: why?
FOSCO: i wanna sniff em
FOSCO: cuz i thk i may be allergic to ur laundry detergent
FOSCO: and i have to find out before i get hives agin

Case 4
FOSCO: show me ur dick
FOSCO: cheney
FOSCO: action figure
FOSCO: sorry my im is acting screwy
FOSCO: but id love to see that action figure
FOSCO: i hear its funny

Case 5
FOSCO: wanna go to fcuk?
SPICY_TEEN17: u wanna fuck?
FOSCO: no fcuk = french connection uk. its my fave store and i nd u to buy me a coat
FOSCO: cuz its gonna snow

So let's not judge Rep. Foley until we get the FULL transcripts of these "sexually explicit" IMs. Fosco would hate to see another innocent homosexual brought down by a vicious media attack (like how Joyce Carol Oates alleged that James McGreevey killed all those teen vagrants). Shame on you, Liberal Journalist/Short-Story Writer Media Complex!

Denouement: 9/24-9/30

Last week, while you were writing sexually explicit emails to a teenage Congressional page, Fosco was

• urging you to attend the sexy, sexy church of your choice (with your family).
  
• interpreting the affection of squirrels, learning to speak "gay slang," and worshipping a pink-haired, anatomically-impossible, Japanimation character.
  
• considering whether to intern for Mark Foley or for Joss Whedon.
  
• waiting patiently for the inevitable Urkel sex tape.
  
• imagining how it feels to have an javelin sticking out of one's foot. (The Verdict: Painful, but still probably better than being an intern for Joss Whedon.)

"It's all right, cause I'm... having sex with two ladies."

[N.B.: all links in this post are Safe for Work--mainly because the naughty bits haven't been leaked yet...]

Fosco is not ashamed to admit that he is a big fan of celebrity sex tapes. At the most basic level, Fosco likes to watch people having sex--what could be wrong with that? And then, if one of those people is either incredibly attractive (as many celebrities are) or incredibly famous... well, it just makes it better.

I think that another reason that I like celebrity sex tapes is that it allows a (somewhat) authentic glimpse into the private life of a person who we tend to encounter under extremely controlled circumstances. When you were in college, didn't you ever wonder what your professors were like at home? Didn't you ever find it titillating to run into them in the supermarket and to discover that they buy "Lucky Charms"? My fascination with sex tapes is similar.

As a connoisseur of celebrity sex tapes, I don't necessarily find all of them erotic, but I do find them all interesting: for every really hot tape (e.g., Colin Farrell), there is one that is unintentionally hilarious (e.g., Fred Durst. Poor, poor Fred Durst) or mildly disturbing (e.g., Tonya Harding). So naturally, I was salivating to see a headline proclaiming a "Saved by the Bell" sex tape!

If you were to hear the words "Saved by the Bell" and "sex tape" in the same sentence, what would you think?

I know that I would have my fingers crossed, repeating over and over again: "Mario Lopez... Please let it be Mario Lopez"

Or perhaps you might think: "This isn't news--I already saw Showgirls."

But no. Apparently the universe has a sense of humor because this newly-discovered sex tape is of... Screech.

The full tape is still not available (not, at least, to my knowledge), but you can see the non-naughty beginning and read some details about the rest of it here (courtesy of TMZ.com).

As far as I'm concerned, there are three juicy teasers:

1. Reportedly, Screech sexually frolics with (my apologies to Kander & Ebb) "two ladies" (Beedle dee, dee dee dee).

2. At one point, Screech gives one of the girls a [shudder] "dirty sanchez"--that disgusting meme of recent pop culture (anyone remember that episode of Veronica Mars last season where a character makes a "dirty sanchez" joke? That may be the filthiest joke I've ever seen on network TV. Not that I'm complaining).

3. In his post-coital monologue into the camera, he suggests that this tape should result in him gaining a certain number of "points" in what is apparently some kind of sex contest with "Mark." The source of the extra points is bleeped in the video, but you can read his lips... (and there is context). More tantalizingly, who is Mark? Could it be his SbtB castmate Mark-Paul Gosselaar? And if so, don't you think that Mark is outscoring him by like a million points?

The whole thing makes you wonder whether, despite the fact that the only appropriate feelings to have toward his character on "Saved by the Bell" were pity and mockery, Dustin Diamond may be having a cooler life than you are. And what do you suppose Jaleel White is up to? I bet it's dirty.

Now, I'm not saying I would pay to see Screech's sex tape. Well, actually, maybe I would. At any rate, if you come across a copy, send it to your Uncle Fosco.

Two Truths and a Lie

Even though I'm hella busy with school and all, I don't want this blog to turn into one of those "funny/weird picture/story of the day/week" blogs (can you handle that many slashes?). So don't worry, some original, extensive posts are in the works for this week (including the weekly restaurant review and a totally invented "conversation" with Jennifer Egan). However, I'm only human (of flesh and blood I'm made) and cannot, CANNOT!, resist pointing out three interesting titbits of fun from the news/blogosphere.

• I know that today's gay youth think they're so clever because they've invented/redefined a whole bunch of words that then function both as a secret language and as a semi-discreet identity signal. Although, sadly, the American Academy of Arts and Letters has yet to recognize and honor the originators of terms like "boi," "fierce," and "power bottom." Now it may come as a surprise (especially to anyone who regularly uses the term "power bottom") that there were gay men in England in the 1950s and 60s (to paraphrase Mary-Kate or Ashley: "Bummer, I didn't know people were gay in the past"). Even more interesting is that they had a slang all their own. It was called "Polari" and it is described here.
  
  Now just think... if I were to learn Polari, I could totally say things to my gay pals and you straight people wouldn't understand a word of it! That's awesome! Wouldn't you straight people feel totally left out!
  I'm going to try it:
  

  Fosco [to his personal assistant Geoffrey]: Did you see that bitch in drag? I would need a really strong bevvy before I would blow that trade.

  Wow, you straight people must be so confused right now. Don't worry, I won't use it too much around you.
  
  
• Two of my most beloved camp icons--oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to slip into Polari there, let me start over.
  
  Two of my most beloved effeminate and outrageous icons are Lady Miss Kier of Deee-Lite and the video game journalist/hottie/fabulon Ulala from Space Channel 5 (why don't they make more computer games for homosexuals?). But it never occurred to me that they were exactly the same person!
  
  At least that's what Lady Kier's lawsuit alleged. Unfortunately, Lady Miss Kier lost. Which makes me sad.
  
  But I can't stay sad when I watch Ulala dancing her way through space:

That girl is so bona... I mean fierce! I love you, Ulala! Write me!

• This last story is hilarious, but laughing at it makes me seem a bit cruel. Let's just file it under "Why It's Good that Fosco Will Never Have Kids." In my defense, it wouldn't be so funny if anyone had been seriously hurt. And, it's not like the getting hurt is the funny part anyway... Oh well, that's enough of an apologia. Okay.
  
  So there's this four-year-old kid in Mountain View, CA (the South Bay) who went to a park on a picnic with his mother. When his mother unwrapped her muffin, an extremely aggressive squirrel attacked the boy, scratching and biting him (this isn't the funny part).
  
  You can read the whole story here [San Jose Mercury News].
  
  Here's a funny part:
  

  As for Andrew, he's still trying to make sense of the assault. He declared he's never going into a park with trees ever again, his mother said, and he keeps telling everyone the squirrel was trying to eat him.

  
  In a dark and twisted way, this would have been great material for Bill Cosby and that goddamn "funny things kids say" show.
  
  Ah, but I've saved the best for last:
  

  "My mommy said the squirrel sneaked down behind me and he was hugging me, but when he kissed me it was really a scratch,'' he recalled Monday. "I fell down, and he fell on me, and . . . and he's still on, and yeah, he was crazy. I don't know what he was trying to do.''

  This is the reason that I feel justified in laughing at parts of this story. The woman told her son that the squirrel was trying to HUG HIM? And then she told him that the squirrel's bite was A KISS? WTF? Why on earth would the woman say that? Even if you felt like you had to lie to your child, is this the best lie you could come up with? And why would you lie in the first place? Can't you just explain that some squirrels are bad--in the same way that some dogs/birds/etc. are bad and you should be careful around them?
  
  Why would you try to map the domain of physical affection (hugs, kisses) onto an extremely traumatic and painful experience? Doesn't this seem like a bad idea? Shouldn't physical affection have positive associations? That lie is absurd.
  
  Yes, I know, I "don't understand what it's like to have a four-year-old." Thank goodness.
  

So Upsetting...

Just because it's Tuesday, here's a little something to freak you out:
That poor (though apparently quite slow) woman is actually a judge of the javelin contest. Read a little more about this mishap here.

How is it that Jarts are illegal and yet we let steroid-enraged He-Men launch these things?

Come to think of it, it's actually pretty remarkable that neither I nor any of my cousins lost an eye playing Jarts as children (because underhand is for sissies.)

My stomach is a little woopsy now. I think I need a ginger ale.

From the Annals of Joss Whedon Studies

Now I love Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and Firefly/Serenity as much as any English graduate student of my generation, but the thought has occasionally crossed my mind that their Creator, Joss Whedon, is not quite as brilliant as he would like to think. After all, he did have an (uncredited) hand in that ridiculous script for X-Men (although it is a matter of debate how much responsibility he had for the clunkiest line in the film).

But, even if he is brilliant (and I'm still not totally convinced), I still suspect he is kind of a jackass. Have you ever noticed how, in interviews, he's kind of full of himself? And now I present to you some further evidence.

The email below was passed on to me by my lone sibling (I'm being purposely vague here), who has a friend who applied for an internship with Whedon (his first mistake). The applicant was so excited about receiving this email that he forwarded it to tons of his friends (his second mistake). I've redacted his first and last name and one other name (presumably the name of Whedon's assistant), but left the rest of the email as I received it. I have no other means of convincing you of its authenticity other than to tell you that I believe it is real. My sibling thought it was clever. I disagree. See what you think:

Hello Mr. [surname redacted]. Do you mind if I call you [first name redacted]? I hope not, 'cause I'm gonna. I suppose if you don't like it, you could always put little sticky notes over the screen. Although I have to let you know that that makes scrolling exceedingly difficult. It can be done, now-- I know!-- but it is not for the faint of heart. Or faint of scrolling.

Mr. Whedon is unfortunately not looking for any more interns right now. He is looking for a house cleaner, because he has trouble with the concept that his messiness does make a wonderful home for all sorts of bugs, and eventually he won't be able to blame it all on his four year old son.

KAI: Honey...what happened in here?
JOSS: [(indifferently, and he's LAZY too!] What do you mean?
KAI: [unnaturally shrill--this happens a lot] There are pieces of at
least four sandwiches, a completely uneaten salad--
JOSS: Oops.
KAI: --thousands of crumpled pieces of paper--
JOSS: I'm an artist!
KAI: --and more than 5 porno magazines all over the floor!
[Long silence.]
JOSS: What was Arden thinking?!

However bleak the prospect seems of working with Mr. Whedon in the near future in a professional film industry capacity, do not fret, for fear is the path to the dark side. There are lots of learning internships out there that could eventually lead to directly working with the man himself. Universal Pictures, Lion's Gate, DreamWorks, Warner Bros. Movies, View Askew, New Line Cinemas, Revolution Studios, Paramount Pictures, Troma Entertainment, Miramax, and Fine Line Features all have headquarters in or near New York, and they'd probably love to have you, so long as you aren't very stupid, very ugly, or very much interested in working for FOX.

I DID NOT EVER SAY THAT.

If you email back your interests and preferences to this address (which forwards to both [redacted] and Joss Whedon), I would be happy to dig around and see if I can ferret out any good internships. When I say good, I mean terrible, but at least your clothes stay relatively clean; there is no such thing as a good internship. Once I know what you are looking for, perhaps I could set you up some meetings with important people whose cuff links are so expensive they make you rather uncomfortable. Also, congratulations on getting an internship for this summer! Most kids your age are not nearly so far into
the industry, unless their last name is Spelling or Coppola.

...Are you a Coppola? If so, I recommend changing your last name, at least until the opportune moment. If you're one of the Spellings, I'm terribly sorry for your loss, and terribly sorry about the rest of your relations.

I DID NOT EVER SAY THAT.

I hope you have a good evening sir, and do get back to me soon, as I have much procrastinating to do, and surprisingly little to fill my time that isn't my actual job. I look forward to hearing from you again!

--The Crazy People You Emailed

Does this email annoy you as much as it does me? I send my best wishes to all you potential Whedon interns out there--based on this email, working for him would make me tired.

It's Sunday...

...shouldn't you be at Church?

Denouement: 9/17-9/23

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Orlando: City on the Move

Over three weeks ago, travel blog Gridskipper (which, despite the fact that I never intend to stay in a luxury hotel in Buenos Aires, I find occasionally useful), announced a contest to assist the City of Orlando in choosing a new slogan. It seems that "You'll Never Outgrow It" isn't working anymore and Orlando needs something really snappy in order to compete with Vegas (as if there is any possibility of competing with "I joined a threesome").

But then Gridskipper apparently forgot about this contest... (or decided to postpone it in favor of their "World's Sexiest City" contest--in which, strangely, Orlando doesn't figure...).

So, I'm thinking that because
A) I spent a few minutes coming up with some suggestions, and
B) One of my best friends lived in Orlando for five years (he worked for Sodomy Camp!), and
C) I have spent a surprising amount of time there,
this contest should be revived here on "Fosco Lives!"

So, here are my suggestions for Orlando's new slogan:

• Orlando: Come for the casinos, stay for the beaches.
  
• Orlando: Orange you glad to be here?
  
• Orlando: Visit Grandma.
  
• Orlando: Ride Kills Woman at Epcot

Commenters, post your own and let's see if we can save Orangetown USA!

Words of Wisdom for Jordan Catalano

Ok, so I'm a little late on this one...

So there's this Jared Leto who used to play a hunk on "My So Called Life" and who now has a band and who, possibly, has experienced Lindsay Lohan's vagina.

On the one hand, he wears eyeliner, which I like. On the other hand, as a serious artiste, he has a beef against blogs:

The blog is yesterday’s parachute pants. It’s here now but it’s gone tomorrow.

Oh Jordan, blogging may be a fad, but remember Fosco's First Rule of Fads (with apologies to Fight Club):

On a long enough timeline, everything is a fad.

The crucial question then becomes: will blogging outlast 30 Seconds to Mars? I think we all know the answer to that one.

Good News / Bad News

Today was the first day of classes at the U, which means there is good news and bad news.

The good news is that Fosco now, for the first time in five years, has health insurance! Hooray! When I woke up this morning, I could already feel an invisible forcefield of protection around me. But although I am now protected (and, luckily, I did not get cancer in the last five years. Whew.), I still can't believe that a civilized country can allow large numbers of its citizens to go without health insurance. It is SHAMEFUL.

Also, now I can go ask a doctor about these suppurating sores. [That's a joke, my friends.]

The bad news is that now Fosco has real responsibilities and schoolwork to occupy his time. This could mean that my communication with you here at "Fosco Lives!" will become a bit less frequent.

No, I didn't say that I'm leaving you--I just won't be here as much.

Well, that's because I don't really know what "as much" means. I'm not trying to be evasive--I just don't know yet how much time I'll be able to spend with you. We'll have a better idea after a couple of weeks.

I know that you'll miss me, Champ, but I have to go to work. I just can't spend all day here talking to you--as much as I would love to. Somebody has to pay the bills around here.

Yes, but did it occur to you that Caleb's favorite blogger may be independently wealthy? I can't afford to spend all day blogging, even if Caleb's favorite blogger can.

Well, why don't you just go read someone else's blog then? How about that? Maybe they'll be "there for you." Jesus Christ...

I'm sorry. No, don't cry--I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it. It's just that... well, I wish I could give you all of my time but I can't.

I know it's not fair, but that's how the world works.

C'mon, let's go get some ice cream. You'll feel better after you eat some ice cream and get a good night's sleep. Gimme a hug, Buddy.

[Seriously though, if you need to find other things to read while I'm unavailable, I would recommend you head over to John Mackey's Osti Music and read his Journal/Blog. His "Talk Like A Pirate Day" post has the most remarkable pictures of Lego pirate battles. Yar.]

Chow: Comfort food for homosexuals (and their admirers).

[The latest of Fosco's weekly restaurant reviews.]

As Fosco spent a not inconsiderable portion of last week in San Francisco, it is only right that he would review another San Francisco eatery. This time it's Chow near the heart of San Francisco's gayborhood, The Castro.

I must admit there was an ulterior motive in my selection of Chow. After Fosco reviewed Bocadillos last week, an influx of Rachael Ray-loving visitors appeared on the site (thanks to Everything Rachael Ray, which does a weekly "RR in the Blogosphere" wrapup). I've already explained my feelings about RR (see the "Bocadillos" post above) and have enjoyed the two previous SF restaurants that she has guided me to and, well, I like to have new readers, and so I decided to try another of her recommendations (as per this episode of "Tasty Travels").

I really liked Chow. It's actually surprisingly large (the storefront is deceptive), but extremely intimate and cozy. There is a gorgeous back patio (with heaters, if necessary) that seems like a secret garden in the middle of the city. My dinner companion JennyT (see previous post) and I sat on the patio on a (surprisingly) nice afternoon and it was grand.

In remarkable contrast to last week's restaurant, the service was so friendly. We were greeted by three or four different waiters/bartenders/busboys on the way to our table. What a nice atmosphere! Our waiter was friendly and helpful, but in no way pushy or inappropriate. Good work, Chow staff.

As for the food, it is good. Not exceptional, but good. They have an excellent menu of what might be considered "comfort food" but with metropolitan style: spaghetti and meat balls, wood-fired pizza, pork chops, burger royale. It was pretty difficult to choose from the excellent menu, but I ended up choosing the fennel sausage pizza. The wood fired crust was mostly good, but was a bit soggy in the middle. The homemade sausage was good, though. JennyT had a delicious bowl of fusilli with a tomato cream sauce and sausage. The portions were large, but not overwhelming. I will return to Chow again as soon as I can and I will post an update on future entrees I try.

Thanks, Rachael, I will keep trying your recs!

Yarr. San Francisco. Yarrr.

I thought maybe I was done driving to San Francisco for a while, but then I got an email from my most delicious friend from grad school at UVa, JennyT. (N.B., she finished her PhD and so she is "Dr." JennyT. I did not, and so I remain "Count" Fosco.) She works for a company that designs space-age parachutes or something and was going to be in San Francisco on business this week. How could I resist hanging in SF with one of my main hags? I couldn't, and so I drove to SF on Monday afternoon.

And did I have a treat for JennyT... When we were in grad school together, we used to enjoy all things piratical (and this was before Johnny Depp made it sexy). So, naturally, I surprised JennyT with a visit to the Pirate Supply Store at 826 Valencia (which I had also been wanting to visit since, like, forever).

Although it is small, the Pirate Supply Store at 826 Valencia is now my favorite place in San Francisco. It made me feel like a small child, filled with excitement and wonder! They carry all of the typical pirate supplies (lard, message bottles, eyepatches, glass eyes, flags), as well as some more exotic items ("Sea Loaf" canned bread, beard trimmings, back issues of McSweeney's). Fosco bought a little bit of everything, including the sign that you see to the left. It will live above Fosco's desk at school to remind him (and his students) about the importance of goal-setting and plundering.

JennyT and I then had a lovely mid-afternoon lunch in the Castro at "Chow." Look for the separate lunch review right here, baby.

JennyT always has wonderful ideas and after lunch, she suggested that we should have cupcakes and coffee. So we headed up Market St to the shopping district and climbed to the top floor of the Virgin Megastore to get dessert at Citizen Cupcake. I had a Mocha Roka cupcake (with buttercream filling!) and JennyT had the signature Citizen cupcake. (See pic at right.) Thrillingly, our lattes were served in big bowls--the increased surface area allows for so much more delicious foam! The space is actually pretty cool, too, with big windows looking out on the street on on parts of the skyline. As JennyT and I talked, I contemplated the crown of the (previously-discussed in this blog) Federal Complex. It turns out to be quite compelling, at least the top of it.

It was so comforting to see JennyT again (I hadn't seen her in over and year and our best conversations are always face-to-face). It turns out that we are both starting to become sensitive to the small betrayals of our friends vis-a-vis their youthful ideals. Sadly, our friend who said she would never drive anything but a Civic has bought an SUV. And the friend who promised to limit herself to two kids is now expecting her third. And so on and so on. JennyT and I have pledged to remain true to our ideals: she and her husband will not have kids, and I will never earn more than $100,000. Oh, and I won't have kids either. We're going to do it, even if no one else does.

"My truth is that I am a gay American."

Ah, those famous words. Words that will be someday be etched onto the walls of the James McGreevey Monument in Trenton. Or, at the very least, scribbled on the wall of a bathroom stall at Rest Stop 59 (maybe with a phone number?).

Former New Jersey Governor James McGreevey's book is out today. It's titled The Confession and, judging for the excerpts printed in the Sunday Times, it is indeed chock full of confessing.

Here's a naughty bit:

I visited bookstores in New York and New Jersey and had sex in the small booths there until I became too famous to risk discovery. I lurked around parkway rest stops, exchanging false names and intimacies with strangers.

And here's another:

Moonlight squinted through the stained-glass windows into our garden, catching an inviting eye or a face stretched in ecstasy. I looked forward to my visits there, sometimes two or three a week. I quickly learned whom to approach and whose advance to wait for, when to move quickly, which posture said “no thanks” and which said “please.”

Oh yeah... now who's bringing sexy back?

[By the way, did anyone actually edit this book? "Moonlight squinted?" Ugh.]

And about all that corruption (you know, that non-gay reason he had to resign)? Well, that's mostly his staff's fault:

I tried to stay as naïve about this horse trading as possible. But I allowed my staff to intimate things to donors.

Intimate things? Like what, Jim? That you could get them Streisand tickets?

Strangest of all, it seems that the book doesn't even acknowledge that McGreevey picked up and killed all those teen vagrants. [Hint: follow the link, read the story, laugh at the joke.]

Seriously, though, isn't it amazing that the Oates story appeared only one month after McGreevey resigned? That woman works fast.

The Constitution is bringing sexy back.

It is a sad commentary on our times that Congress can pass a law requiring Constitution education for college students and I would want to make fun of it. What could be wrong with compelling universities to teach the Constitution on this day? I don't know yet, but I suspect the execrable David Horowitz is involved somehow. And as for making fun of Constitution education, according to yesterday's Times Magazine, it's the Way We Live Now.

Of course, I would never deny that there is widespread ignorance about (and apathy toward) the basic principles of the Constitution. Or, as UCSC Acting Chancellor George Blumenthal so laconically writes:

More students have greater knowledge of pop culture versus the United States Constitution.

I'm no expert on the students of today (because, goodness knows, I certainly don't understand this whole shaved pubes thing), but I have to wonder if students don't pay attention to the Constitution because it's a bit... well... dry.

And so, what if we were to "punch it up a bit"? We could do a bit of amending to make it a much more interesting document. After all, if we're going to amend it every time homosexuals get a little too uppity, then why not spice it up in other ways? Just a suggestion.

As Fosco is dedicated to the education of the today's youth, he would like to offer four things you may or may not know about the US Constitution:

• Sections of the Constitution (also called "Articles") are allowed to have "groupies" and sometimes these groupies blog.
  
• The 12th Amendment is the source of most of the lyrics to the recent hit song "Sexyback."
  
• Although the Constitution provides for "checks and balances" on the power of each of the three branches of government, one of them is actually intended to be a lot cooler than the others (hint: they wear black muumuus).
  
• The opening word of the Constitution are often confused with other important texts in American history. Let's clear up this confusion now:
  
  • The first words of the Contitution are "We the people..."
    
  • The first words of the Declaration of Independence are "When, in the course of human events..."
    
  • The first words of the Gettysburg Address are "Fourscore and seven years ago..."
    
  • The first words of Lolita are "Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins."
  
  Don't miss this on the exam.
  

Happy Constitution Day everyone!

"Mom, Dad, I shaved off my pubic hair!"

When Fosco was in college, Playboy did a pictorial feature of the "Girls of the Ivy League." My organic chemistry lab partner ended up being one of the two featured models from the Big H (and she's a doctor now). One day I ran into her in the Science Center and she crowed the news (and showed me the polaroids from her session). I never quite understood why she wanted to do it (and her quotes in this Crimson article make it seem even more confusing--posing nude isn't that much different from posing semi-nude). But it was actually fascinating to see a person that you see everyday (and who doesn't actually look that much like a model, although she's cute) airbrushed into full pinup glory.

I think there are a number of interesting questions when college students pose for skinmags. How can you not be fascinated by the idea of generally enlightened and intelligent college women lining up to pose for Playboy? What is life on campus like for these women? What do their parents think? And, ten years from now, do you worry that it will come back to affect your professional reputation? So interesting!

So let us consider Playboy's "Girls of the Big 12"(link SO not safe for work) pictorial (I don't follow these things, truly, but there's this thing called Fleshbot...). What can we learn from this?
[N.B., I used to have direct links to the individual pix below, but they get redirected. The curious reader will have to go to the "Girls of the Big 12" link above and figure out which picture is being referred to in the items below (it's not too hard).]

• If you pose wearing only a cowboy hat and chaps, it's important to do it tastefully, according to Texas A&M student Tasia Bauman:
  

  Bauman said she thinks the photo is "tastefully done," and her parents and grandparents agree.

  You can tell it's a tasteful photo because she's wearing her dress thong. Read the rest of the story in the local newspaper.
  
• And what if haven't exactly told your parents that you posed? Oh, and what if you're so worried about their reactions that you don't want to reveal their names? Well, then you probably shouldn't do an interview with the local paper.
  
• It seems that future playmates should probably major in kinesiology or exercise physiology. Apparently, knowledge of the physical limitations of the human body is useful when you want to sit in a sink (she's the one from UTexas who is posing with a huge jug of popcorn).
  
• Did you know that, in addition to cattle-rustling, naked women also enjoy making out with each other in the snow? Although such behavior is apparently noteworthy enough to merit a column in the Denver Post.
  

I feel like I've learned a lot from this exercise, but there is still a major unanswered question: why do none of these women have pubic hair? Granted, Fosco hasn't had sex with a woman in a number of years, but he's pretty sure he remembers some hair down there. When did shaving become so standard, so common, that every woman in this pictorial does it? How did this happen?

Heterosexual porn is so strange.

Vows

I don't normally read the "Weddings and Celebrations" section of the Sunday New York Times because, well, I don't like to read about happy people and when those happy people are also fabulously wealthy or quite successful... Well, let's just say that Fosco needs some extra happy pills to make it through the rest of the day.

But, despite the usual envy, I also was moved by today's article about the anniversary of Adam Berger and Stephen Frank.

One of the reasons for my emotion is that I was slightly acquainted with Steve Frank in college (although he knew my roommate much better). And, strangely enough, the fact that he came out after college never made it back to my ears in the last ten years (maybe because he wasn't actually in my class--he was a year or two ahead). As I recall, he was actually a bit conservative (although maybe only economically).

The years since college have been an especially interesting time for me, as I have watched classmate after classmate (including myself) come out as gay. In college, I lived with five other guys and all of us were supposedly straight. Now, at last count, three of us are out and, even though the remaining ones are married or seriously dating women, I'm not going to rule out another surprise (Dr. H****?)

I can't speak for Steve Frank (after all, things seem to have turned out well for him) or for my college roommates, but I still, after ten years, am envious of my peers who were out in college. I think one of the reasons for this envy is that (at least for me) high school and college were the periods of my life in which I had the closest relationships to other men. The college and high school friendships I had with men were really intense and very powerful. But, because I was closeted (and so were so many of my friends), we never got the chance to explore whether that intense friendship could admit/recognize an erotic element. I rarely develop friendships that intense anymore (after all, people in their late 20s/early 30s are busy and tend to be more isolated), and I doubt that any romantic relationship that I have in the future will develop out of a pre-existing friendship.

I think I could have had amazing romantic relationships with several of my male friends from the past, but (at this point) it's maybe kinda too late (although, to some extent, this blog is an extended love letter to one or two of them). The timing for Adam and Steve (*giggle*)seems to have been perfect and that makes me both happy and envious. Mazel tov to them!