How To Get Away With Murder Returns and the Crazy is Crazy Good

I didn't get home from dinner last night until nearly midnight, but I couldn't go to bed until I'd watched the #January29th return of How To Get Away With Murder. I mean come on. I'd been waiting for the show to return since November. Do you think I could sleep? Not a chance!

I didn't want to cancel my plans last night, but it did cross my mind that I could ask my dinner companion if she might want to have dinner at my apartment and watch How To Get Away With Murder with me...live. I know what you're thinking: Who watches live television anymore? Well, watching live television is the old new thing. I mean with live tweeting and live blogging one is setting themselves up to be spoiled if they're not immediately (or shortly thereafter) in the know.

Suffice it to say, I did not cancel or change my dinner plans, but I couldn't even think about going to sleep until I saw how Annalise Keating and the "Keating Five" dealt with the immediate aftermath of Sam's death. I was not disappointed. Viola Davis is marvelously flawed and human leading a cast of characters I still love to watch divide, resolve, dissent, and compromise for their lives.

Last fall How To Get Away With Murder was a roller coaster ride that kept showing us the hill we were going to plunge down even while its initial climb was in the case-of-the-moment present. There was an over arching storyline--those lurches you feel as the chain is pulling you upward--and its murder mystery would eventually consume everyone. It was teased and taunted in flash forward images and dialogue that made one feel the need to watch the episode again because they were certain they'd missed something. I was one of those people. I watched every episode twice and savored every moment as the unravel took us to the November finale episode, which finally put all those flashes and pieces together and showed us exactly #WhoKilledSam.

We were left at the top of that hill last fall, just going over the edge. And now...now we're in the present, free falling at high speed without the bar across our laps. I'm dying to raise my arms in the air, but I'm afraid. I'm screaming and holding my breath. The anxiety, the fear the characters on my television are feeling is present in the lump in the my throat as I sit on my sofa, glued to their every breath, eyebrow arch, and explanation to the police of what they were doing on the night Sam went missing.

Most of the time when you're on a roller coaster that's plunging down the first big hill it's just a straight to the bottom plunge. This hill, while steep, is not straight to the bottom. It's got twists and curves. It's like we're skiing down a mountain avoiding all the trees and boulders in the way, but can't get out of the car and can't stop the dive. You might need to invest in a neck brace for all the I-didn't-see-that-coming whiplash.

There are only 3 episodes left before the first season finale. I don't see the tension letting up, and I doubt the pit of my stomach will feel anything less than sinking as the ground remains elusive during the hour of 10-11pm on Thursday nights.

Television Characters: I Know They're Not Real People, But...

This piece originally appeared on HuffPost Entertainment

“Christian Troy never learns his lesson.” I made that statement very matter-of-factly and honestly about a character on Nip/Tuck during the end of its run on FX Network. It was just a normal part of the conversation while discussing the previous night’s episode. The friend with whom I was discussing the episode began to laugh. He responded, “Sweetie, you know he’s not real.” As soon as that comment was out of his mouth I joined him in laughter. Yes, I know Christian Troy is not a real person, but that doesn’t change the fact that as a television viewer I get very invested in the television shows I like and even more so in the characters I like on those shows. 

Details. I’m obsessed with the details. I watch episodes of How To Get Away With Murder (HTGAWM), American Horror Story: Freak Show, and Scandal more than once to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Usually that repeat viewing reveals something I missed the first time. The attention to detail was outstanding on Breaking Bad. Not even the smallest moment was unnecessary. A flash across the screen of Walter White that might have appeared to mean nothing in season 1 could be an important plot point in season 2 and finally tie up by series end.  

Mythology. I love the mythology on shows like Lost and Once Upon a Time. The worlds created on those two shows in particular are so structured and detailed. It thrills me to see how the characters are connected. The same can be said of Sleepy Hollow. It keeps me on the edge of my seat. It’s a show that takes our country’s history and stories from the book of Revelation and weaves them into an intricate end-of-days story that keeps surprising me week after week. And while I’m touting mythology I have to mention Twin Peaks. The first season was so layered that I consumed each morsel of information regarding the central mystery and was always left hungry from more.

Conspiracy Theories. A show like HTGAWM is ripe for conspiracy theories. #WhoKilledSam is one of the show’s hashtags. I watch. I re-watch. I question. I join the conversation on Twitter. I want to know who killed Sam. I want to know who’s covering it up. I want to see what Annalise Keating is going to do next. Okay, let me be honest, I want to see what any of those characters is going to do next. My curiosity makes me want to cancel all plans on a Thursday night so that I can be part of #TGIT while it’s happening. 

It’s been a long time since I’ve been willing to put up with commercial breaks, but television is so of-the-moment right now. In our social media world of live tweeting and live blogging if you don’t watch right away the plot details get spoiled or you’re out-of-the-loop conversationally. If I haven’t watched American Horror Story: Freak Show or the aforementioned Scandal and HTGAWM before I get to work the next day I spend that day apprehensive of spoilers on Twitter and Facebook, frustrated that I don’t know what happened, and annoyed that I can’t take part in the greater conversation.

My over-involvement in the lives of television characters is not new. It goes way back to my soap opera watching days. Back in the late 80s when I used to set the VCR to record them every day. (Grainy tapes that were recorded over, then over again, multiple times.) God forbid I should miss the moment Cruz and Eden find their kidnapped daughter Adriana on Santa Barbara or the day Stefano returns from the dead for the fifteenth time on Days of our Lives. But those moments were merely scenes that I wanted to see happen. Today it’s more about being part of the conversation surrounding all the moments that happen to be happening on any given show during any given episode. And let’s face it, Scandal, HTGAWM, and American Horror Story: Freak Show are roller coasters. Once they plunge down the first hill they begin to reveal every twist and turn their writers have in store for their richly developed (or developing) characters for the season.

During a recent episode of The Walking Dead a friend of mine was live tweeting in all caps. I finally asked her if her use of all caps was an indication that she was yelling at the TV. She responded, “Basically.” I laughed. I’m familiar with this occurrence. I’ve yelled at my television so many times that I have neighbors both past and present who probably think I’m a little cuckoo. Hell, maybe I am. At least when it comes to my investment in the lives of fictional people. During that above mentioned episode of The Walking Dead I was angry. Here’s one of my live tweets: “#TheWalkingDead makes me rethink my faith in humanity. Live together, Die alone. But still…” Did you pick up on my Lost reference in that tweet? The dot dot dot ending leaves the tweet feeling unfinished because I just couldn’t express myself any further. I realized the situation I was watching wasn't real life, but I was putting myself in the scenario and kept wondering when those still alive in the world of The Walking Dead decided that having control and power meant more than helping fellow survivors. Imagine what I could do if I spent that kind of energy on real world problems.

Television characters have moved me to tears, made me LOL, frustrated me to the point of giving up on watching a show, outraged me for reasons I didn’t even recognize at the time, and shocked me to the point of tears, frustration, and outrage at having to wait another week for answers. I know I’m not alone in this. I can’t be the only person who wants to know everything there is to dig up about Annalise on HTGAWM. Or the only person who wants to know in whose favor the Victoria/David/Emily triangle’s game of deception and revenge is going to play out on Revenge. I know there are millions who want to know if Olivia will save Jake on Scandal and if she does will she choose him or Fitz? Will Rick & company ever find a cure for what plunged the world into Zombieville on The Walking Dead? Will Crane and Mills stop the end of the world on Sleepy Hollow or witness it? Will Elsa make it out of the Freak Show alive? I don’t know, but I tune in every week to find out. And you can bet I’ll be tuning in to Showtime in 2016 to see what the hell is happening with Cooper et al in Twin Peaks 25 years later.

I — we — love these people, er, characters. I’m invested. I want to know how it all turns out. I’m the guy who wonders if Monica and Chandler are still married and if Ross and Rachel had any more kids. I also want to know who the hell JR’s daughter is, but unless another network picks up Dallas I may never find out. 

Some might view the amount of hours I spend watching TV as a waste of time and that’s ok. I see it as pure escapism that thrills me, inspires me creatively, and at times teaches me a lesson. I also see it as a chance to connect with people through the inevitable conversation that happens when a TV show is home to flawed, despicable, virtuous, righteous, driven, angry, good, evil, secretive characters. I just keep reminding myself that commercial breaks are opportunities for my blood pressure to regulate…and that these people aren’t real. 

In the spirit of conversation, please keep the conversation going with your thoughts and comments on getting intimately involved in the lives of fictional characters below. 

Scandal(ized) and Loving It!

It's the age of binging. No, I'm not talking about on food or alcohol, although I’m sure somebody somewhere is binging on one or both of those things. I'm talking about on television. We live in an age where binging on television is the new normal. Not only is binge-worthy television more easily accessible these days, with Netflix, On Demand, online, and complete seasons on DVD, it is highly entertaining and addictively watchable. When you're fortunate enough to latch on to a series that makes you want to skip meals and sleep, choosing instead to watch the next episode, then you've struck television gold in your quest for your next great binge. My latest is Scandal.

The rapid fire sound of a clicking camera shutter snapshots images across the screen, giving me the sense that someone is always watching. The camera slowly pans the scene, alternating between clear and prism distorted shots. Scandal has a look and style all its own. For me, these stylistic choices mimic the idea that someone is always watching, but what did they actually see. I don't know what took me so long to join the masses in watching this series of sex and politics, but I'm thankful that I no longer have to shake my head apologetically or shrug my shoulders unaware when it comes to Olivia Pope references or articles written about Bellamy Young's portrayal of First Lady, Mellie Grant. I am now in the know and couldn't be happier to be an attendee at the gladiator party.

Let me start by saying Shonda Rhimes is a genius. She has created, with Scandal, a television show that appeals to me even more than Grey's Anatomy did when it was fresh and new. Scandal is a political drama with enough thrills, sex, romance, power hungry politicians, and yes, scandals, to fill a six month quota in just one episode. It’s never boring. I am constantly intrigued and never surprised when I find myself shocked. There's a level of anxiety that hovers in the room when I watch. The story lines can take any twist or turn during a given episode, but those twists and turns always feel right. The brilliant writers know how to give enough backstory to leave you wanting more, while answering questions you didn’t even know you wanted the answers to. They know how to shock you and they know when to give you the payoff. I am never sure what to expect, but being open-mouthed (jaw to the floor) is an expression my face has gotten used to.

When you watch a show called Scandal you expect there to be plenty of what the title suggests. You will not be disappointed. There are scandals that last an episode, scandals that span the season, and one major, overarching series scandal that looms over everyone’s head. However, the show is about so much more than the sum of its scandals. 

Kerry Washington's character, Olivia Pope is a “fixer,” a crisis manager. Her job is to fix the problem. And manage her client’s problem she will, even if she can’t manage her own. She runs Pope & Associates, a collective of lawyers, sleuths, and hackers who help her help the client. There's quite a bit of dysfunction between these characters, but the same can be said of any family. And that’s what the characters who work at Pope & Associates are, a family. For that matter so are the characters who work in the White House. All of their paths cross, their lives overlap. They know each other as much as they allow themselves to be known. Sometimes they work together as a team. Sometimes they work against each other. There is a desire among these characters to take care of one another, but there is also a willingness to hurt each other for the greater good. The question of who can you trust is always in the air and friendships seem only as deep as Olivia Pope's Prada bag. 

If the scandals make the show interesting, it’s the characters that make the show compelling. The storytelling is so engaging, the scenes so well acted, that the machinations of the political figures that thrive and breathe in Scandal's Washington, D.C. make me question what childish plots and crafty schemes our real life politicians keep hidden.

Scandal is delicious and just as good as all your friends keep telling you it is. It rightfully earns its People Magazine praise as "TV's juiciest drama." I don’t want to give anything away. I want you to experience for yourself the political intrigue as it unfolds in all its breathless, sordid detail. The search for your next great binge is over. Pour yourself a glass of wine. "It's handled."

This piece also appears on HuffPost TV

Oh, the Addictive Powers of Those Pretty Little Liars

This piece originally appeared on Huffington Post Entertainment

If you’re a TV junkie like I am then you live for good television A series that entertains, challenges, and whets your appetite for more as each episode ends. I love a densely woven serial like Lost or a juicy prime time soap opera like Revenge or the revived continuation of Dallas. That said, almost every part of me feels I should hang my head in shame at this confession. I’ve got a new addiction, and I can’t seem to feed it enough. My name is Michael, and I’m addicted to Pretty Little Liars. I have fallen under its spell completely.

It’s a whodunit story that reminds me of the first season of Desperate Housewives crossed with the texting, fashion, and snark of Gossip Girl splashed with a smattering of Twin Peaks; a teen-bent soap opera filled with secrets, forbidden love, and teen angst. It brims with beautiful girls wearing beautiful clothes and hot guys who find themselves shirtless--if you're lucky. It's also a creep-fest filled with shadow lurkers and dark, stormy nights. Who you can trust is constantly changing, but betrayal is always on the agenda. The cliffhanger is alive and well and perfectly executed at the end of each episode.

On a recent trip to Boston, I found myself with a free afternoon. Flipping through the channels, I discovered a marathon of PLL airing on ABC Family. I decided to watch. That decision proved to be one that would hook me and reel me in. When I returned home from that trip I promptly bought seasons one and two. I devoured them. I’ve been eating, drinking, breathing the goings on in Rosewood, Pennsylvania. The backlog of ignored recordings on my DVR stretches back four weeks.

On the outside the fictional town of Rosewood looks exactly how you might expect a quaint Pennsylvania town to look--white painted churches, manicured lawns, pristine town square. But under the cover of darkness, the shadow of secrecy seems to be twisting its tendrils deeper into this town, entwining the residents in an endless search for a murderer. The victim, poor little mean girl, Alison DiLaurentis. It seems many had a grudge against her, but the finger-pointing to her killer is in constant flux. Aria Montgomery, Spencer Hastings, Hanna Marin, and Emily Fields are the friends Alison left behind; the girls most devastated by her death, and the ones working overtime as amateur sleuths to solve the crime.

The secrets extend farther to include more than the ones surrounding Alison’s murder. Each family has secrets--each girl has secrets--and the mysterious “A” knows them all. Does God have a rival in the omnipresent department? We all have secrets, but in Rosewood the secrets are under constant threat of exposure and always seem to get revealed.

I admit the conclusions reached by the Liars can often be predictable, but let’s face it, the girls are in high school, (albeit unlike any I went to high school with) and they’re quick to assume the wrong answer. We all know what they say about people who assume. I’ve had many an eye roll moment as I watched them get it wrong time and again. The plot twists, however, are consistently surprising. Honestly, the show is a lot of fun. As the series progresses the dialogue gets sharper, the one-liners funnier. If you give it a chance you might find yourself thoroughly entertained. And that’s what it’s all about isn’t it, entertainment? Don’t give up on it. Embrace it as a guilty pleasure. Just get ready for the withdrawals because when you have no new episodes to watch, waiting is an itch for which there’s no fix.

Stop hiding in the shadows PLL junkies. Somebody out there probably knows you’re watching anyway. As the theme song says, “Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.” -A

Drift Away

June 12, 2011

"The Island smiled on us all week and then turned cold and started raining as if to say GET OUT." Words from Neal as we waited to board our ferry back to the mainland and the reality of our lives.

The rain started the night before and continued throughout the night and into the morning of our departure. I slept like a baby, unaware of anything until I heard the rain on the roof and skylights as I began to drift toward consciousness from my dreams.

Instead of getting out of my comfortable bed immediately, I chose to lie there, covered to the chin, drifting in and out of shallow sleep, listening to the rain.

Rainy days can be sad and melancholy. End of vacation can be sad and melancholy. I must admit that as the house became decluttered of our belongings and the bags, previously stowed away in a closet or under a bed for the week, began to fill up again, I was a little sad. It's natural. I was also happy to be returning to my life with memories that I would keep forever.

The beautiful blue and green water from Monday's arrival had been replaced by murky gray water for our departure. Out the fogged window by which we sat I could see the choppy waves of an angry ocean. Okay, that's dramatic; let's call it agitated. We watched as Martha's Vineyard slowly became smaller, fading away from our distance. I couldn't help but smile. No one could take the experience away from me. Everything has to end, we just have to live in it fully while it's happening and know that we were present in every moment. Side note: we saw Beth’s parent’s house from the water as we passed. We could actually pick it out even at our distance from land. That was cool.

The ride was smoother than I had anticipated it being. From the Oak Bluffs ferry dock we watched our ferry bobbing in the water. When we boarded, we could feel the sway of the boat. Out in the Atlantic it didn't feel much different than our initial passage.

There we were, comrades in cars, all of us waiting to debark the ferry. Smiles and nods one to another. Some of us had been on the Vineyard for a week, some of us for just the weekend.

We had started listening to Grey Gardens The Musical the previous evening on the way to Vineyard Haven to see Super 8. We continued where we had left off as we drove to the ferry. It seemed only natural to finish the show now that we were off the ferry. It was the day of the 65th annual Tony Awards. Why not indulge in a good musical score?

We stopped at Duncan Donuts to pick me up a coffee now that we were back on the mainland. I’m a little unclear whether we were still in Woods Hole or had made it Falmouth. Really does it matter that much? I mean a Duncan is a Duncan. It’s been my experience every time I go to one that the coffee is too light and too sweet. This time didn’t disappoint. Well, it disappointed in that I don’t like it that light or sweet, but I did need/want the coffee so I’m going to shut up about it.

The drive to Boston was roughly an hour and half. Without giving Neal a choice, I pushed play on the cast album for the 1992 Tony winning Best Musical Crazy For You. Neal and I have a history with that show. We were doing summer stock together the year that it won the Tony and were completely obsessed with the Tony telecast performance that entire summer. We both saw the show in New York at the Shubert Theatre on Broadway, albeit separately. We’ve both performed in productions of the show (again separately) and had the time of our lives. It seemed like a no-brainer. We talked about our experiences with our respective productions and how brilliant we thought Susan Stroman’s choreography was for the original Broadway production. It was the second show I had ever seen on Broadway. It was the show that allowed me entrance to the Shubert Theatre where A Chorus Line had played for 15 years. I have a lot of great memories wrapped up in that show.

It song-and-danced us all the way to Boston

Back at Neal’s we unloaded the car and then went to Burger King for a little lunch. I remarked to Neal that fatty (talking about myself) was going to have to start walking to work across the Queensboro Bridge in order to rid my body of the crap that I allowed myself to consume during the week. Vacation is not an excuse to eat whatever you want. I just let myself believe that for about 7 days. Oh where was the person who chose the apple over the M&M’s at the beginning?

When all that day’s errands were completed (groceries, car rental return) Neal started doing laundry. He threw mine in with his. He was watching So You Think You Can Dance when not emptying the washer, starting the dryer or folding the clean clothes. I was hard at work writing about the amazing experience I had just lived for a week.

Then it was Tony Awards time. That time of the year when those of us who love theatre watch as the Broadway season’s best are honored for excellence. Well, sometimes it’s the best that are honored. Sometimes it’s the politically correct choice or the easy choice. Anyway, it was Tony time. I was excited, as I always am on this very special of nights. Living in NYC has made many of these telecasts all the more special as I’ve had the opportunity to see the shows, hear the gossip, etc.

This season I was particularly interested as the company I work for, Stage Entertainment USA, was represented with a Best Musical nomination for the “divine musical comedy” that is Sister Act The Musical. Most of us didn’t think it had a chance in hell against the blockbuster, runaway hit that is The Book of Mormon, but one could always hope.

When all was said and done, it was really a no-brainer, no major surprise kind of evening. The Book of Mormon took home 9 wins out their 14 nominations and Sutton Foster took home her second Tony Award for her performance in Anything Goes. All the predications came true. Anything Goes took Best Revival of a Musical and Kathleen Marshall took home the Tony Award for her choreography for Anything Goes. When things are too predictable it can be boring. Two other predicted wins also happened but were anything but boring. The Normal Heart, Larry Kramer’s play about the AIDS crisis at its beginning in the 80’s took home Best Play Revival and Ellen Barkin, making her Broadway debut in said play, took home the Tony Award for Best Featured Actress in a Play. Those two moments were predicted, but amazing. Then there was the surprise factor. Nikki M. James was so surprised to win the Tony Award for Best Featured Actress in a Musical for The Book of Mormon that her speech made me cry. Tears fell down my cheeks and dripped off my face. It was such a beautiful moment to watch a truly thankful, humbled actor accept an award for something she loves to do. The shocker of the evening for me came when Norbert Leo Butz won Best Actor in a Musical for his role in Catch Me If You Can. I didn’t see that one coming. One shocker in a night full of The Book of Mormon, The Book of Mormon, The Book of Mormon, Anything Goes, The Book of Mormon.

Ah well. I bet Sister Act still had one kickin’ party.

Push Your Destiny to its Boundaries with the Wind of God at Your Back

“You are responsible for your own life.”

Desire is not enough to change your life. Real change takes the courage to act upon your desires. I don't seem to possess enough courage - yet.

I never attended the church of Oprah on a regular basis. That does not mean I think she is anything less than a powerful woman. She puts her money where her mouth is. She pursues what she believes in. She is not afraid to tell you what she believes and she's not afraid to tell you why you should believe it too. On the flip side, I think she will listen to why you don’t believe. Maybe I’m wrong about that, but we all have to be able to listen, right? She was a master at giving us the powerful story of survival and redemption. She found the truth and exposed the lies. She sat and she shared and she talked and she preached and she gave.

After 25 years of trying to help people change their lives Oprah has now signed off; at least The Oprah Winfrey Show has signed off. As most of us know, Oprah will continue to try and enlighten the world through her own network, OWN. It seems fitting that her initials Oprah Winfrey followed by Network should spell OWN as she has owned the daytime talk show crown for most of that 25 years.

“Please take responsibility for the energy you bring into this place.”

As I watched Day 2 of The Oprah Winfrey Show 2-day secret celebration (an event if ever there was one) I enjoyed watching the surprise-hating Oprah's face as she was met with surprise guest after surprise guest. Then I found myself struck with tears as one man after another began to talk about his education. An education he would not have had without Oprah’s generosity. Each man was a recipient of the Oprah Winfrey Scholarship at Morehouse College in Atlanta. A select few had recorded their stories. She was visibly moved. I was drenched. My glasses actually started to fog up as the tears fell from my cheeks. Then, as if that accomplishment weren’t moving enough, Kristen Chenoweth took center stage to sing “For Good” from the musical WICKED. The song in itself is powerful enough as its lyrics talk of friendship, forgiveness and how life has been changed because "you" were in it. Then the ultimate surprise – small lights began to fill the stage as men who had earned degrees thanks to the Oprah Winfrey Scholarship filled it. It didn't stop there. Lights began to move down the aisles as man after man filled the space – men there to celebrate how Oprah and her generosity had changed their lives. Four hundred and fifteen men with educations from Morehouse College because of Oprah. She wept. I wept. I wept as I thought about how blessed I am that I didn't have to worry about getting an education. I thanked God for it and realized how I had taken for granted that my parents would pay for my education then I thanked God for them. I continued to weep as I asked God for the courage to make a change in my own life and to inspire others with my actions and words.

“You have to know what sparks the light in you so you, in your own way, can illuminate the world.”

It takes more than desire. I don't know my purpose. I'm not clear on my road. I just want to be able to proceed with an open heart and mind. I wonder how much potential I squander every day just sitting on the sofa?

“Embrace the life that’s calling you.”

Courage is hard. I have the word tattooed on my right wrist. I look at it often. I pray for the courage to face the challenges of my life and make the changes that will affect me and maybe someone else along the way.

“Everybody has a calling and your real job in life is to figure out what that is and get about the business of doing it.”

Oprah left a legacy of courage to fight for what you believe in, to find change through spiritual enlightenment, to read the words of a good book, to value the merits of a getaway with your best friend.

I may not have always agreed with what she said, but I never would have experienced The Secret and the changes it brought to my way of thinking if it hadn’t been for Oprah showcasing it on her show and my friend Neal calling me to tell me I should watch that day.

Desire is the seed. Courage is the water. The fruit the tree will bear is Change.

“We have the power to change our own lives.”

A Summer of Discovery & Rediscovery

It's been a while since I've concentrated on writing about what I'm doing. It's been since August 19th to be exact. I've been doing things. Living life.

It's been a great summer. I hate to think of it as being over. Technically it isn't, but the kids have gone back to school.

This was my first summer as a resident of Astoria. I enjoyed the peace that my home brought into my life. I've had to remind myself that what I'm feeling these days is happiness. It's been a while since I felt truly happy.

One major thing that has been going on with me this summer is: I've been meeting with my friend Mandy on Tuesday nights to read. We're not reading books. We're reading what the other one is writing. It's been amazing. We meet for dinner and catch up on the goings on in each other's lives over the past week. We talk and laugh and eat. After the plates are taken away, we order coffee and pull out the pages for that night's reading. It has been so exciting and pleasurable to read what Mandy has been working on. It's a funny story and I can't wait to read the new pages each week. I look forward to finding out what new, ridiculous experience she puts her characters through. Sometimes it's just a paragraph or line that is the stand out. Other times it's the entire scene. I never fail to laugh though.

It's also been a confidence boost for me to have her read and critique my first foray into fiction writing. She sort of acts as an editor. She helps me clarify things that don't make sense. She doesn't necessarily know that I listen to her entire reaction though. There were things in my first story, Ocean Point, that I wrote because she mentioned that she couldn't wait to find out about such and such. They were things that I maybe wasn't even concerned with. However, writing those descriptions or explanations made the piece better. So thank you Mandy for just being you and wanting to know.

I have now moved on to another story - 327 Chesterfield Road. It's a different tale than the first. More challenging really. The first one was a challenge, don't get me wrong. When I'm writing about something that I did or experienced, I can give you every detail because it happened to me. I can describe it to the point where you feel like you're there. Writing something that is unfolding in my mind makes the details very difficult.

I think about where I want the piece to go. Then I concentrate on getting the words on the page. Then I concentrate on editing and clarifying and making sure that what it says conjures the image I have in my head. That's why I'm publishing one installment a week.

I'm constantly thinking about whatever piece I'm writing at the moment. The ideas swirl around in my head like water swirling down the drain of the sink after the plug has been pulled. And just like that stray piece of corn or that manages to cling to the sink, instead of going down the drain, I have kernels of ideas that stick. I have pulled out my BlackBerry® on the train more times than I can count and started to write about the people in these stories. Thank God for memo pad or I'd be screwed.

Anyway, it's been a great summer. My blog turned a year old. I went to Newport, RI. I went to Amagansett in East Hampton. I went to Boston - twice. I hung out in Central Park. I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge - twice. I ate at new restaurants in Astoria and Brooklyn. I hung out with friends in Astoria. I smoked a hookah for the first time. I published my first piece of fiction. I watched a lot of True Blood, Mad Men and SYTYCD. I reconnected with a cousin and met his family. I started publishing my second piece of fiction. I tried new wines. I cooked new dishes. I read three books. I got new music. I got a couple of new pieces of furniture. I took lots of pictures. I found happy again.

Thanks to all of you who continue to keep up with my life. Keep reading. I'm going to keep writing about me and keep creating characters with interesting stories to tell.

Cheers!

SYTYCD in Boston!

On Monday, I called Neal and asked him if he had plans for Thursday. He said he had to work. I said I knew that, but what about Thursday night, do you have to go to the gym or do you have homework? He said he did need to work on a project. Why I was asking?

Well, I had Thursday night and Friday off. I suggested that I come to Boston to watch So You Think You Can Dance with him. Actually, I asked if he would be willing to not watch Wednesday night so that we could watch the 2 hour performance and 1 hour results shows together.

He agreed that that sounded like a plan. I sat down at my computer and purchased the tickets. Nothing like a 4 hour bus ride to watch a little tv with a friend. I mean, why not?

I made a fantastic summer salad with pasta, cucumber, orange bell pepper, purple onion, corn and feta cheese, tossed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, along with a fruit salad of mango, strawberries and blueberries. Healthy and so good. Neal didn't eat any of it. He's having a throat issue and is being very particular about what he eats. Neither of us had an issue with the homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies though! Nobody's passing that up.

For those of you who read the Amagansett blog, I can drink wine again. I bought a bottle of Malbec Rose. I thought Neal and I should try something new.

We had such a good time watching SYTYCD. We paused and rewound and discussed a lot. Completely what I thought it would be and completely worth the trip.

The weather on Friday was amazing. No humidity. Big, fluffy white clouds. I had to go to the beach. Having missed out on that part of my trip to the Hamptons, it was necessary. The beach near Neal's is one of my favorite places to go to when I visit Boston. It's so lovely. The water has a calming affect on me. I took off my sandals and walked in the sand. I walked to the dock that I enjoy and stood there just breathing it in. The smell of the water and the air.I decided to take photos. I started all the way to my left and 22 shots later I was all the way to the right. A panoramic view of what I was seeing.

Friday evening, I met Neal at his office and we went to see SALT. I was a little hesitant to spend 90 minutes of my short trip sitting in a movie theater, but Neal wanted to see it, and I thought it might be fun to see that movie with him. Boy was that ever the right choice. It was a roller coaster that I'm totally glad I strapped myself in for. It was thrilling and exciting and everything that a summer escape movie should be.

Post movie we went to Clarke's in South Station and had a beer and a great, honest, personal conversation. I do love that Neal and I share the history of questioning our sexuality, at the same time, in college. It's just so refreshing to talk to someone who knows me. I mean really knows me. Pre coming out and all these years post.

It's always worth the trip.

Hypersexual Sunday Nights (Bon Temps Style)

Fresh blueberries, green grapes, Bartlett Pears, carrots with hummus and a German beer concoction is a great start to a beautiful Sunday evening.

I got off work yesterday at 4pm. It seemed like the perfect excuse to hang out with my friend Tynan. She too was getting off work at 4pm. Around 5pm, she was heading home to Astoria, so I headed to Astoria myself. I landed at her apartment about 30 minutes later. I found a very tired Tynan. Not surprising when she told me about the night she had had previously. Nothing crazy, just late. She wanted a low-key evening at home and I'm usually always pretty down with that. There are times when I need to blow off some steam and turn it out, but most of the time I'm a sit-on-the-sofa-and-have-a-glass-of-wine-with-some-good-tv-or-conversation kind of guy.

When Tynan headed to the shower, I headed to the Trade Fair to pick up some supplies. On a hot summer evening, the first thought I had was fruit. Juicy, fresh fruit. There's nothing more beautiful that a colorful plate of fresh fruit sitting there waiting to be enjoyed. Anticipating the burst of the juice in your mouth from the first blueberry. I wanted a plate full of more color than green and purple, but upon examination of what was available at Trade Fair, blueberries, pears and grapes were my best option. I wanted the peaches and the plums, but I just wasn't sure they were ripe enough yet. I kept coming back to the peaches. I make a fantastic fruit salad with peaches, mango, blueberries, grapes and pears in the summer. Yum! Alas, last night was not the night for that particular salad.

The next thing I wanted was beer and Sprite. I know it may sound strange, but it is utterly refreshing. We usually drink what we call "white trash sangria" on Sunday evenings. You know, equal parts wine and ginger ale. It's usually red wine in the winter and white in the summer. I've taken to adding fresh oranges and limes or lemons to the mix. Anyway, last night, beer felt more refreshing. About a year ago I was with my German friend, Katrin, at the Beer Garden in Astoria, and we had this beer/Sprite concoction. I needed to revisit that refreshing beverage last night. So with Miller Lite, Sprite and the fruit purchased, I headed back to Tynan's to prepare it all.

After I washed and plated the fruit, Tynan added baby carrots and hummus to the mix, as well as, a Spanish cheese, the name of which escapes me. She added small slices of the cheese to the fruit plate, on top of the pear slices. It was a little bit of heaven right here in Astoria. Anticipation was building for that first bite. We moved everything to the living room, where the low lights and sound of the air conditioner whirring, lulled us to the sofa with a "come and relax on me for a while" ambiance.


Faced with what to watch while passing the time waiting for True Blood to start Tynan started searching HBO on demand. We stumbled upon a series that neither of us had heard of called Masterclass. Some discoveries are good and some bad. This was good. Like Columbus discovering America! Well, maybe not exactly like that, but for a couple of artists, it was pretty damn good. Masterclass is a series where professional artists give a master class to young artists. The first one we watched was Placido Domingo. Perfect for Tynan as she is an opera singer. For me, it was just amazing to sit back and watch those kids react and learn from their hero. The next one we watched was with Jacques d'Ambroise. He was a dancer and is now a respected choreographer. I reverted right back to my early days in college when I was just discovering dance and the joy that I felt back then. It was hard, but I wanted to be good at it so bad that I practiced it. I don't practice any more. Anything. It's sad, really. There was a time when I studied and practiced to learn and get better at something. Now, if I can't do it right away, I kind of give up on it. There are episodes with Liv Ullmann and Bill T. Jones, as well as other names I didn't recognize. I can't wait to watch and discover their magic.

During the first episode of Masterclass, we decided it was time to order dinner. I know, with all that fruit you're thinking how could we possible be hungry for more. Well, we were. We ordered sushi. Another tasty idea for a hot day. Hot and raw don't really go together where food is concerned, but sushi is kept cold and prepared fresh so that made it perfect for the hot summer evening. Salmon, California, mango/avocado and peanut/avocado rolls were ordered and Masterclass was resumed.

Instead of having the food delivered, we decided to walk the block and pick it up ourselves. Not typical New Yorker, but the evening was beautiful and the walk was a joy.

With our appetites satisfied, it was time to satiate our minds with the sexual world of True Blood. That is never hard to do. The world created by Charlaine Harris in her Sookie Stackhouse novels, and translated to the small screen by the mind of Alan Ball, is always sexual. It's full of comedy, intrigue, mystery, thrills and sex. What would you expect from vampires, but sex? It seems to be the nature of the beast. Hypersexual is a good word to describe the vampires of True Blood and the series itself. Let's just say, it's good to have HBO on Sunday nights when the summer starts.

Food, friends, good television. Is there a better way to spend an evening? Well, maybe at a beach or a New England bed & breakfast with a lover, but having no option for that last night, my choices were the perfect ones for me.