True Love Ways

I just skimmed my calendar and realized one of the reasons today is significant; it is the anniversary of the death of a man many of you may not be familiar with, but if you listen to American popular music, you hear him Every Day.



His name is Buddy Holly, and he, along with Richie Valens and the Big Bopper, died in a tragic plane crash on a snowy night 50 years ago.

I think for many of you Holly comes off as either a little sappy, a little simplistic, or both. But if you know the story of his life you may be appreciate who Holly was and the lessons we potentially gain from him.

Holly was a musical rebel in the 1950s, an artist who was offered a great deal of cash to sound like everyone else. And, even though he was desperate to be heard, he refused to compromise his sound. His friends and family thought he was nuts, but he held on and eventually found a producer who would give him what he wanted on his terms. And in doing that, Holly went on the produce a string of amazing pop standards that still stand the test of time—Every Day, Oh Boy!, Peggy Sue, Maybe Baby and one of his final songs dedicated to his wife Maria Elana—True Love Ways.

Listen to his music via iTunes or some other music vendor and tune into his clear, natural voice. Or if you want, one of the best bio-pics Hollywood ever cranked out is The Buddy Holly Story (before Gary Busey bumped his head ☺).



I hope this does not come off sounding like some sort of motivational speaker’s pitch. Compromises are part of life. We set out to achieve a goal and then, many times, events big and small force us to rethink what we want, what we need and what we absolutely have to have. But be very careful with compromises. Make too many and we lose a very precious asset—you.

Thanks for the music and the example Buddy--rest in peace.

Kissing One's Way to the Oscar

The results are in. And per my predictions from about a month ago, Sean Penn is nominated for playing a heterosexual males who kisses other men.

I tell you folks, playing gay is the new retarded. If an actor who is decidedly heterosexual makes the brave choice to kiss another dude, he is set for a nomination, if not the big prize.

Congrats Sean Penn for your work on Milk.

I am MILK Intolerant

I had a funny/disturbing occurance last night at the movies. While on line (I have lived in NY long enough, I now say "on line" as opposed to being "in" it) to see The Wrestler (4 out of 5 stars), I had a friend ask me if I had seen Milk.

I told her that Milk was okay (as reported earlier in this blog), and that unlike many people I thought it was a rather pedestrian affair. I have seen a great many bio pics, and I think that Milk pales when compared to Isadora, Coal Miner's Daughter, Young Abe Lincoln...even The Buddy Holly Story is a better film then Milk. I think people love it because of the fiasco of Prop. 8 and the fact (stated below) that Sean Penn, a straight guy, kisses men!

All of a sudden the woman ahead of us on-line announced that Milk IS a great film. She was quite declarative in her endorsement that I was wrong and she was right--it is great. I used my clinical superpowers to frame it up for her and make her realize the reasons it may have spoken to her. But I was shocked by her behavior and troubled by the unspoken text of our conversation.

Milk is a story about a queer character told in a positive light. And sadly, tales such as this don't get told very often by homophobic Hollywood. That said, that still does not make it a better or worse film. I refuse to fall in lock step with those who think Milk is the greatest film of the year, anymore than I did when critics and civilians alike hailed one of the most tedious films of '08, The Dark Knight, because it is Heath Ledger's last performance. Was Heath a great actor? Yes. Was he a friend to queers? Yes. Was Dark Knight good? HELL NO. It sucked.

Movies are movies. They speak to us or they do not. But feeling the need to like something, anything, because of the statement it makes is a weak choice. One of the challenges in life is picking one's own intellectual agenda. It is not always easy, but it is genuinely you. And being you--your true self--and not some political clone, is the way to better mental health.

Harvey Milk died for that belief--how ironic.

What Harvey Milk Taught Me

I recently saw the film Milk and thought, wow, this is an overrated film. I am a tad tired of the whole "he should get an Oscar because he is straight and kissing a guy" school of acting. It was fine for what it was (3 out of 5 stars) but nothing beyond the realm of the stock biopic.

That said, I did leave the film with imagery in my noggin, a "take away" worth keeping. The moment is early, when Milk the New Yorker passes a cutie in the subway and asks him out---and in doing so changes both their lives forever. Upon seeing that scene I thought, "I need that, I have to get ballsier or I am gonna be single the rest of my life."

But translating thoughts into action is a challenge. I dropped the ball this PM, when a cute-not gorgeous, not really my type--but cute, guy was alone at the screening of Doubt that I was at. He kept checking his cell prior to the film and I thought he was a little too much--23/24-ish with a fedora and a trench coat--but I kept watching him. At the film's end (4 out of 5 stars) I turned around and he was gone.

Twelve blocks and 20 minutes later I saw him at the subway stop, still checking that cell for the offer/bid/proposal that would never come.

I thought of Milk-- be would have gone up and asked the young buck to dinner. No strings, just dinner as a meal is almost always better together than alone. But I did nothing. I watched him walk into the subway and thought "idiot , go after him" and I did, but he was really gone this time.

So now I am having a fabo dinner -- good wine and stuffed mushrooms and a great Caesar salad--alone. What would have happened if I had asked? Don't know...but I wonder...