OUTspoken

NASA bombs the moon ... live tweeting

2009-10-08T21:41:00.000-07:00

Adventures in unemploymentland

2009-07-30T07:27:00.000-07:00

I was laid off in April.

Since then, I have been responsible for sending in several applications each week to newspapers across the globe to appease the unemployment gods who control my financial destiny. Every week, I scan journalism job sites for potential positions. I have literally read hundreds and hundreds of job posts.

I started complaining on Twitter that a disturbingly high number of job posts for positions as copy editor had spelling errors and typos in them. Come on people! A newspaper should, at the very least, not misspell the town or city they are representing. And an editor should know that when opening quote marks are used, there should be closing quote marks. It's pretty basic stuff.

Monday, was my breaking point. I stopped being nice and ignoring the typos. In fact, I threw them in the employers face. And it go their attention.

I printed off an ad posted on journalismjobs.com and I grabbed my red pen. Scrawling corrections across the ad, I made it consistent with AP style. Then I scanned the ad back into my computer. I wrote a cover letter, attached my resume and some clips and the scan of the edited job posting. The package was e-mailed to the offending newspaper.

Honestly I didn't expect anything in response. But I was surprised. The offending editor at the paper responded in less than 24 hours and promised to look at my application further.

Moral of the story: Telling someone they are an idiot might land you a job.

A dose of chivalry

2009-06-30T10:48:00.000-07:00

I picked up a flier this weekend for a company called Cinderlla Knights. It bills itself as "The Premier Femme/Butch Companion Service located in the Seattle/Tacoma area."

I know you're thinking the same thing I was. Lesbian hookers? No. I had to find out.

I spoke to the CEO of Cinderella Knights this morning to find out what exactly the service provides.

"We are not an escort service," said Sasha L. Lewis.

But it's not a dating service either. Essentially, it is for femmes who want a night on the town with a butch without the hassle of having to date.

Here's how it's sold on the Web site :

"We provide a companion service for Maidens/Femmes who are new in town, here for only a short while, or have lived here forever, and just want a companion without the hassle. Our clients are usually not looking for someone to become involved with on a romantic level. They are simply wishing to attend holiday functions, events, theater productions, dinner, sight seeing, even a motorcycle ride in the country, in the company of a handsome Butch."

According to Lewis, the femmes who are requesting the service pay for all expenses accrued during the date. Because that does not follow the butch/femme code, money is exchanged "behind the scenes." In effect, it appears as if the butch is handing all the financial transactions.

Lewis the impetus for the company was "born out of a lot of dates from hell."

That is something we can all relate to: butch, femme, gay or straight. To ensure that all the knights are "chivalrous," Lewis writes on her Web site that "each one is carefully screened."

But how does she make money?

"We don't," said Lewis.

That's dedication to assuring one won't have a "date from hell," if ever I heard it.

From broomsticks to marriage

2009-05-06T12:44:00.000-07:00

I was in first grade the first time I heard about same-sex marriage. It was circle time, and we were discussing families. The girl on my left insisted two girls or two boys could get married. I was blown away by the concept. Girls did not HAVE TO marry the opposite sex. A breakthrough idea for a 6-year-old.

The idea got put on the back burner until years later when I came out of the closet. My early years in college coincided with the first state's effort to legalize same-sex marriage. Hawaii was the first battleground.

In May 1993, the Hawaii Supreme Court called into question the constitutionality of a statute limiting marriage to opposite-sex couples. The excitement about the efforts there spread like wildfire through activist groups across the U.S.

We all felt it. Our time was coming.

But it didn't. At least, not yet.

In 1994, I jumped a broom with my partner. Borrowing from an traditional with pagan and slave roots, we created a circle of salt, clasped hands and took that leap. It was both a statement of our commitment to each other and a statement on the deficiencies in our civil rights.

In 1996, then-President Clinton dealt us a blow, signing the Defense of Marriage Act - something we are trying to repeal to this day. DOMA guaranteed the 1350+ federal rights given to married couples were exclusively for opposite-sex couples.

Hawaii again offered hope in 1997 as the state Supreme Court affirmed the unconstitutionality of limiting marriage to opposite-sex couples. It did not last long. The following year voters in Hawaii chose to reserve marriage rights for opposite-sex couples.

I married again in 2004. It was a Friday. Friday the thirteenth. For those few weeks in February and March 2004, more than 4,000 couples flocked to the city to tie the knot.

So, there I am standing with my wife and son and the mayor of San Francisco, Gavin Newsom.

That June, I met up with the thousands who I had stood in line with to get that precious certificate legalizing my bond with my partner.

Two months later, the California Supreme Court voided all of our marriages.

While neither of my marriages was successful, I don't have regrets about either of them.

I feel I have the same right to screw up in relationships as straight people do.

And in the years since I married in San Francisco, same-sex marriage rights have surged. Since the day I held that certificate in my hand, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Vermont, Iowa and now Maine have legalized marriage for me and my future partners. And the future of marriages in California still remains uncertain.

The storm is gathering. And I like it a lot.

God hates Italy: A theory

2009-04-14T19:26:00.000-07:00

Every Sunday, like clockwork, the newspaper receives a few faxed news releases from the Westboro Baptist Church. (Here's their Web site: http://www.godhatesfags.com/ Really. I'm not making that up.)

The groups weekend releases usually have to do with the a protest of a soldier's funeral. In the church's twisted way of thinking, god is somehow punishing the U.S. by killing soldiers by allowing queers to live.

They cross the nation protesting soldiers deaths — not just in Kansas where the church is based, but in states across the nation. Yes, they have been in your hackyard.

And while I hate to give them even recognition, I would like to propose a possible theory, along lines they may be able to follow.

Here we go: God Hates Italy!

To quote the Telegraph (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/italy/5145526/Italy-earthquake-survivors-in-tent-cities-hold-open-air-Easter-services.html):
"As the death toll from the disaster reached 294, priests held Mass in the camps which have been set up by emergency services around the shattered city of L'Aquila and surrounding villages for nearly 40,000 homeless people."

OK, so we are looking at 40,000 homeless people and nearly 300 dead, as of April 12. And the aftershocks are continuing. More buildings may collapse, before this is over.

Why did this happen to Italy? Clearly the answer is God Hates Italy.

Lets look at the reasons for that hate:

In March, the Pope lifted an excommunication of a bishop who denied the Holocuast ever happened. When alert to this, the Pope apologized, but did not re-excommunicate the bishop. Rome does not have the best history of good relations with Jews.
Also in March, the Pope, in a message to Africans, said condom use does not prevent the spread of AIDS. Clearly, science and Catholicism do not mix.
And here's my favorite: Last December, the Pope compared saving humanity from gay behavior was just as important as saving the rainforest from destruction.

And so God issued his edit: Italy must suffer for the hate the Pope has shared with humanity. When the Pope learns to accept queers and Jews and suffers of AIDS are real humans, then, and only then, the future of Italy be assured.

God Hates Italy. (Is that Web site taken yet?)

Take that Rev. Phelps!

Where do I go now

2009-04-14T00:03:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about Dan Rather a lot lately.

I know. Weird, right?

More precisely, I've been thinking about Dan Rathers, a doll I named when I was 3 years old. (The resemblance between actual Dan Rather and my Dan Rathers doll is difficult to discern. The doll is 7 inches tall, has brown polyester pants and bright red hair. I can't honestly recall how the anchor looked in the 70s.)

Clearly I was a news junkie from an early age. (Not many other 3-year-olds name dolls after anchors, I'm guessing.)

Regardless of early obsession with broadcast journalism, I ended up in newspapers. I fell in love with them from the first time I worked on a student paper. I made my own major in college, being one of very few who graduated with an independent major in journalism. It was prestigious to be allowed to follow that path.

And although it took me longer than expected to graduate, I ended up at a daily paper right after Sept. 11.

I spent the majority of the past decade working at daily newspapers in smaller communities. But while the papers themselves were relatively small - circulations of roughly 30,000 - the companies that owned them were big.

I reflect on this now, as I look at the last few days of my employment at a daily newspaper. I'm not just losing my job; my profession is disappearing. There is not going to be another newspaper that is going to hire me. Across the board, we are being laid off.

So, I now join the ranks of the thousands of journalists who are unemployed. Where, exactly, do we go from here?

The cleavage conundrum

2009-04-05T13:29:00.000-07:00

I spent much of yesterday wearing a dress. A low-cut dress.

I don't do this. Ever.

The response I got from wearing the dress was ... well, overwhelming ... in a lot of ways.

Don't get me wrong. I like boobs. I like them a lot.

The thing is, I like looking at them (on others) more than I like dealing with my own. I'd rather strap them down and keep them out of the way.

Come on, women. Boobs can be a pain -- a few days every month they are sore to the touch, it's nearly impossible to lie comfortable on one's stomach, and sliding into second base head first is completely out of the question.

And aside from the physical problems, there's always the aesthetics. Women are constantly complaining -- "Mine are too small." "Mine have gravity issues." "Why do they always have to be lopsided?"

Yesterday, I felt like everyone was staring at mine. All day. I TOTALLY get the objectification thing. It's really uncomfortable, and probably the reason I would rather be wearing T-shirts and jeans rather than a low-cut dress.

Even my friends were looking. Not at my eyes.

It was really disconcerting.

The problem is, I realize I'm just the same. Girls is low-cut shirts and dresses are hot. But I don't like being to one that is stared at, and now I feel horrible about being the starer.

Ad appeal

2009-03-25T11:45:00.000-07:00

I love commercials. I love 'em a lot. It's kind of unhealthy.

When I was a kid I wanted to make commercials when I grew up. I was convinced the oldies song "Domino" would go great with a pizza commercial. And it was certainly better than that damn Noid. (Remember him? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_6MozpyBKE)

The big commercial day of the year is always the Super Bowl. I could care less about the guys in tights running around the field. The commercials are the true spectacle. (Am I the only one who has started wondering how Go Daddy will inspire and offend in 2010? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVQUvepHW_w)

Lately, I had seen a huge downturn in commercial quality. You can see the economic struggles companies are facing. Old Navy no longer hires models. They avoided paying people by using mannequins both in their print and broadcast ads. The Travelocity Traveling Gnome uses postcards to show the places he can go, rather than real exotic locations. And he doesn't speak. He flashes cards.

But, the craziest of all is the car ads. It is almost April, but yesterday I saw a commercial advertising a 2008 truck. A 2008! That is unthinkable for the auto industry. The 2008s should have been gone last June. The 2009s should have been advertised since then. The economy is so horrific, car dealers are still trying to get rid of last years cars when in a "normal" world the auto industry would be months away from offering the new 2010s.

The recession is killing us all, but I really hate it when one of my favorite forms of entertainment - 30-second spots - are getting hit as hard as the rest of us. Companies across the board are suffering ... and it's most obvious in their TV commercials.

Here's one of my favorite truly offensive commericals: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCYB0lzoofc