Stop the Presses! Some Bimbo Has An Opinion About Gay Marriage!

Does anyone else find it bizarre how much we care lately about the political opinions of beauty pageant contestants? I don't for the life of me understand why it's interesting that Miss Beverly Hills (Miss Beverly Hills?!) supports the execution of homosexuals.

I mean, c'mon, this peabrain's comment barely merits an eyeroll, but instead we get the story covered by every major news outlet and plastered all over the blogosphere. Here's an interminable segment by Keith Olbermann on MSNBC, complete with counterpoint by America's favorite gay dad, Dan Savage.

Maybe if we all just decided to ignore these nitwits, we wouldn't find them later in life poised to be a heartbeat away from becoming the president of the United States. Seriously, people. Turn around and walk away. Don't encourage them.

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Happy Birthday, Johnny.

When I was a little kid, my mother played two records more than any others. One was the Jordanaires' This Land, an album of American folk songs sung in beautiful, smooth 4-part harmony. Their version of "All My Trails" still lives deep in my soul and floats on the surface of my dreams.

The other was Johnny Cash's Greatest Hits Vol. 1. Those songs indicated to me at a very young age that adults must have a world of exotic and dangerous concerns: erotic obsession, social injustice, marginal people, the tenuousness of sexual fidelity. Those songs may have been my first encounter with the idea that people often say things they don't exactly mean, to be funny or to make a point.

Anyway, I revere Johnny Cash, so does J, and this was always one of our favorite songs to sing.

The Ohio Theater Is Closing.

I know things change and die, blah blah blah, but this is a tough one. The Ohio Theater was my artistic home for many years. It's where I met and became friends with Tim and Kristin and so many others who are still my dear friends. It's where I began to learn how to write songs for theatre. It's where Lizzie Borden was born. It's where I met Jay. I guess I thought if it could survive the 80s and the even more brutal 90s -- in Soho, for god's sake, I mean, in 1989 we were bitching about how Soho had become an upscale mall -- I guess I thought it would be around forever. So sad.

The Great Texas Snow Freakout of 2010.

For a while this morning there were big globs of snow, or more like airborne slush, falling from the sky, and the Texans were beside themselves because apparently that sort of thing never happens here. Then later on for a bit, there was some real snow falling, but it was too warm and the ground was too wet for it to really accumulate. I drove to the film festival office where I've been volunteering in the afternoons, and the roads were nearly empty. Everyone stayed home because the roads are ... wet? Then the precipitation stopped, now it's close to 40 degrees, but still the Austin schools district told parents they could come get their kids from school, every one is leaving work early, and everything this evening has been canceled. As far as I can tell, the "snow" is over, but everyone is so traumatized, they need an evening off.

New Gay Theater.

I stumbled on this article minutes after writing a blog post on the Gay Place about the new gay conservatism. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner or I would have linked to it as an example of this conservative trend.

It's a shame that the economics of New York theater ensure that what happens there is mostly a conversation between artists and rich people, but I guess the point is that you can see these new plays as symptomatic of the kinds of concerns gay people have now, at least gay playwrights.

Keeping in mind that the New York Times is good at making things sound dull whether they are or not, the new plays mentioned in the article don't sound interesting to me, except The Pride (because of the history angle and because an old friend -- who is crazy talented -- designed the sets). But I would love to see the revival of Boys in the Band. I saw the movie when I was in my twenties -- at that time, it was understood, in the fringey artist/activist circles I traveled in, to be an embarrassing relic and our quintessential self-loathing story. But I remember being moved by it. I'm very curious to see how a contemporary group of artists interpret it, and how a contemporary audience receives it. In fact, I think I'll rent the movie and watch it again, to see how it holds up.