Your cocktail sir,





2002-11-01 - 12:41 p.m.

Last night, Halloween in the Castro was uneventful. I feel like I have to get that out of the way. I have had more calls from concerned people. There were 300 to 350 Thousand people hanging out between 18th and Castro last night, and there were 4 stabbings and one act of vandalism against a car. And so Iím getting phone calls. I suppose that I should be grateful, but itís a bit embarrassing really. The work calls are the best, messages left on my voicemail expressing concern that I didnít answer the phone. Emails of short messages asking ďARE YOU ALL RIGHT!Ē with no subject line or anything. Itís crazy. Unlike the Castro. It was just crowded. There was no space or ability to appreciate any of the great costumes. It seems that the Nerd and the Sailor were the popular costumes this year. I expected more debauchery and received tameness instead. Nowhere was evident any of the 7 sins. There was a marching band playing Ricky Martin tunes. Nothing really racy or radical, well, except for some overweight man in a pink thong, high heels, and a dubyah mask dancing on a power transformer. It was too crowded to have fun, to do anything but mill around and try not to squash anyone. I saw an excellent Mary Poppins, and a pair of cool robots. Yup, thatís it. NOTHING HAPPENED. Itís insane. I hung out at a place compared to Mardi Gras or Carnival and NOTHING HAPPENED. I wasnít challenged or offended. My sensibilities where not shocked. It was a non-event. Itís depressing. I am an observer of drama. I think itís hilarious to see. Perhaps I was expecting too much. There was nothing hardcore, let alone cable rated. I wanted Folsom St at Night or something. I was tempted to make up some drama, just to move things along. And then, like oh my god, this group of homosexuals dressed as angels beat to death a straight couple for not wearing costumes! Then Iíd have an adrenaline rush, a party anecdote, and be able to talk to the news cameras. Because how could they pass up a fat man in a 128 thread count toga (the sheet cost $2.50 at Wal-Mart and was grateful to me for saving it from ending up in a trailer where it would never be washed). Iím sure theyíd go for me and the thong wearing President. I did have to put up with a lot of hail Caesar and stuff, despite the fact that I was obviously a Greek Philosopher. The guys in the shorter skirts and capes where the Caesars. Hmm, I suppose that I should be careful about using the terms Greek and Castro together. My sisterís boyfriend got the most attention, dressed as Slash (she went as Axel and they were, in my opinion, one of the best couple costumes I saw last night) with an afro wig and a top hat. He had to wear jeans as his pants had suffered some sort of catastrophic failure earlier in the day at a wedding rehearsal dinner they had attended. The walk back proved to be more entertaining, as there was freedom of movement. It was fun to see all the costumes and the groups going towards the huddled masses yearning to be seen. The streets jammed with people looking for parking and re-directed traffic. It was much more a party atmosphere, and probably the best time I had all evening. The party also was a non-event. People I didnít know, or cared to standing around in costume chatting. I bowed out fairly early and with my sister and their puppy, walked the 8 blocks back to my car. The trip out of town was insane, and I was pleasantly jolted with car love, pleased that I was driving something so comfortable and aesthetically pleasing. Which kept me sane during the crawl to the freeway. I should have stayed home, watched some TV or maybe gone out to a bar locally. It might have been more entertaining. I could have made orange rice crispy treats with the black licorice stems and sat out on my porch distributing candy to the unloved children whose parents didnít transport them to a wealthy suburb for maximum goodie distribution potential. But odds are that would have been just as uneventful. I guess what I wanted was an atypical night. But arenít we all.

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Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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