"Leave the Rooster Story Alone, That's Human Interest" - Cary Grant in His Girl Friday

Photo taken by yours truly.

Sunday we were in the Castro District of San Francisco as one of my daughter's graduations was held at the historic and beautiful Castro Theater. I hadn't been in those parts in many moons. I was impressed by how clean it is (you may, if you've a mind to, insert your own joke about fastidious gay people here and yes, I said insert so there is yet another opportunity for you to construct a clever wisecrack). There were many nice shops including a bookstore. Youngest daughter is like me in that she cannot resist a bookstore and so there was no question about entering. It should come as no surprise that I found a book to purchase. I'm like that. Currently I have about two dozen books I've yet to get around to reading with many more that I'd like to purchase. I make no apologies for this particular addiction. It compares quite favorably with my previous addictions that involved drugs and alcohol. I have yet to get a hangover from reading, nor forget the previous night due to excess reading, nor have I damaged either my mental or physical health through reading nor have I insulted people nor made a fool of myself through excessive reading. I have spent more money on books that I'd planned but not to the extent I spent more money than I'd planned on scotch or cocaine.

Later I happened to stroll by the former offices of Harvey Milk and happened to do so when the Gay Men's Chorus was singing Happy Birthday to the late great Mr. Milk, though it was actually a few day's before the anniversary of his birth. They also sang I Left My Heart in San Francisco and another song, the title of which I don't recall, that was first performed during the Candlelight Vigil after Mr. Milk's assassination. There was also what I guess what one would call a gay marching band that performed. It was all quite lovely.

So yes, I saw many gay people striding about (and standing, for that matter) as one does in the Castro. I walked by a group of about six gay men standing around chatting and I noted that the vibe was much different that it would be had I walked by six straight men in conversation. There was a different energy entirely, more relaxed and friendly.

There was also, once the sun made an appearance, a gentleman who was standing on his street without a stitch on. One part of his body seemed to indicate that he was half excited. When I taught in San Francisco my students (who were from all over the world) would, of course, take trips to the Castro and most of them really liked it although they were confused by the naked men. "Why?" I was often asked. I could only shrug.

Another observation I had was that there were a lot of couples, some young, some old and many in between and like straight couples in love they seemed quite happy. It therefore continues to confound and anger me that there are those regressive forces in the United States (and other parts of the planet) who actually hate the fact that two people of the same gender can love one another romantically and express that love physically. The repugnant TV preacher Pat Robertson recently suggested that god was going to "vomit" up the US because of laws guaranteeing equal rights to the LGBT community. One must suppose that Robertson's god looks favorably on countries like Saudi Arabia, Iran, Brunei, Indonesia, Myanmar, Somalia and Uzbekistan where homosexuality is not only forbidden but punished. And think of all the other countries besides the US that this god must hold in disdain for permitting gays equal rights such as the the UK, Argentina, France, Mexico, Belgium, Brazil, Taiwan, Finland, South Africa, Italy, the Netherlands, Uruguay, Spain, Sweden etc.

You would think that god would really reserve his (it has to be a male god if it's so uptight about gay sex) ire for countries that made war on others but evidently two people of the same gender fucking is worse in the eyes of Pat Robertson' god then blowing apart human bodies with bombs. Evangelicals are some pretty messed up people.

As I indicated earlier the ceremony was held in Castro Theater which has been a going concern since 1922 (yes, that makes it older than me, smarty pants). If you live in these parts or visit here I'd recommend catching a flicker in the theater. It's gorgeous.

After the ceremony we went to a restaurant where I indulged in a whole lot of eating including a very rich dessert. That night my tummy stated it's objections to my over indulgence and refused to let me have a good night's sleep. This was one of the few signs of aging that I've yet to experience. The next day I still managed to work on one of my novels and enjoy a visit with two grandnieces one of whom is but a month old. Holding a tiny baby for more than a few minutes (I got nearly an hour's worth) is one of the most pleasurable experiences I can imagine. Talk about cures for anxiety and depression.

Today there was more writing, a long walk, reading and two movies to be watched the second of which was His Girl Friday which is among my ten favorite films of all time. I've watched it many times and I could watch it again tomorrow and the next day and be happy doing so. I heard a line from the film I'd not noticed before and it forms the title of this blog post.

I've very much enjoyed writing this and am sorry to anyone who cares (Betsy McGillicuddy of Trenton, NJ) that I've not written more often of late. I'll try to do better. In fact I'll try to do better in other things. We all should.