Be sure to read beyond the first sentence…

Thank God I’m a straight man who is trapped in a male body.

I say that NOT to lord it over the LGBTQIA community.
I say that NOT to boast.
I say that NOT out of pride.

I say that to avoid the wrath of the Religiously Intolerant People of my homeland / of our world.

Religiously Intolerant People has just become my newly coined phrase (seeing how it forms the apt acronym RIP). Apt, because RIP tend to rip to shreds the lives of anyone who does not conform to their provincial notions about femininity, masculinity and sexual behavior.

Yet, even though I am able to conform, I still have to worry about RIP jumping to the wrong conclusions re my lifestyle. I mean, how would the judgmental judge this old man in his mid-sixties, who has never been married / who has never fathered any children? Could they even find it conceivable that a heterosexual, who had never gotten over the heartbreak of unrequited teenage love, had simply given up in his search for Ms. Right?

I know my valid excuse sounds pathetic, but I am living proof that being a lifelong loser in love can happen.

And I do have living proof that the RIP’s ‘tude, as I’ve described it, really does exist.

Many summers ago, my Mom’s friend, M, paid us a midmorning visit. They’d first met in the hospital back in 1951 (when both were recovering from childbirth). While the three of us all sat down at the dining room table to sip on freshly brewed coffee and munch on yummy doughnuts, M, now the doting grandma, got to talking, glowingly, about her grandchildren. It was when she had asked Mom how it felt to have no grandchildren that our chat took a sudden turn for the worse. You see, I made the fatal error of making what I had deemed to be a harmless, ecologically valid remark, “Not to worry, considering our world’s overpopulation problem, who’d even miss the kids I never fathered.” WOW! You should’ve seen the instantaneous fury in her glowering eyes as she turned to face me… to sternly lecture me… to tear into me… “THAT’S NOT HOW GOD HAD INTENDED IT TO BE!” Her implication was that I’ll someday burn up in Hell because I was thumbing my nose at God’s “Be fruitful and multiply” edict… as chronicled in Genesis 1:28.

My point is that even a straight man is not immune from RIP’s harsh judgment and shaming tactics. And if I can experience that resultant sinking feeling that goes all the way down to my DNA, just imagine how much worse the RIP’s outrage intensifies when they rip into a person who does identify with any of the letters of that LGBTQIA acronym! Just imagine how much worse the RIP’s targeted victims feel!

In essence, the RIP’s Unholy War involves their viciously ridiculing, ostracizing, harassing and demeaning anyone who doesn’t buy into the concept of prolific procreation within the framework of traditional marriage. To be clear, it’s NOT my intent to disparage such convention. If it works for you, fine. However, we must also be willing to accept anyone who does not march in lockstep.

Let’s now focus a bit more on my moments ago usage of the word demeaning.

To demean even one human being… especially anyone of a differing gender identity / sexual orientation… demeans us all.

One would think that the Religiously Intolerant People… of all people… would [1] readily agree that our Creator has made us ALL in His own image and [2] realize that to vent their hatred toward anyone who identifies as LGBTQIA is to also spit such hatred right back at the face of God.

 

 

 

BlogCast: Billboard Chart Topper Mood / Moon Music

 

Full disclosure, I still am a diehard NASA geek. My fascination gets backdated to their Projects Mercury, Gemini and Apollo. So… yes… once again… this blog will rehash Apollo 11’s Golden Anniversary. But, try not to yawn and/or nod off… by blog’s end there’ll be an unanticipated, sonically / visually enhanced twist. That said, let’s blast this BlogCast off the launchpad…

This past Saturday evening, my primary mission became recreating 07/20/1969… inclusive of synchronizing my main timepiece to that half century old NASA timeline. And that countdown clock readout was telling me T-Minus 59:00 (OK… it was actually a red LED, forward moving digital alarm clock… so sue me!). Anyway, that meant I could fit in the playback of a mood enhancing compilation CD (featuring… what else… 1969’s pop songs). Yep, there was plenty of time before Neil Armstrong’s 10:56 p.m. EDT EVA, where he’d be taking his first “small step” onto the lunar surface.

By disc’s end it had suddenly dawned on me that I had heard two futuristically themed tracks, which had actually rocketed to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 Singles Chart during lunar missions… the 5th Dimension’s Aquarius / Let the Sunshine In syncing to the May flight of Apollo 10 AND Zagar & Evans’ In the Year 2525 matching up to the Apollo 11 odyssey.

However… it’s the two contrasting, lyrical story-lines that are even more compelling… namely… Aquarius’ conjecture re humankind’s better days ahead versus 2525’s prophecy of a stark dystopian society… inclusive of humanity’s end.

That got me wondering… was a group hug for humanity in order? After all, an astounding half-century had somehow managed to elapse sans some itchy trigger fingered, foolhardy prez insanely spiking nuclear WMDs planet-wide… to be followed by that dunce’s “victory dance” in the irradiated end zone. Apparently… we had successfully averted morphing the 5th Dimension’s Aquarian dawn into a premature Zager & Evans, In the Year 10K dusk.

Of course… the day is still young! Lest we forget, the current nuclear saber rattler / little boy does want to play with his nuclear toys. He’s also so drunk on fake patriotism that, in all likelihood, he can hardly wait to see the “rockets’ red glare” and nuclear “bombs bursting in air”.

Well before Mister Ballistic gets a chance to dust off the cover of the nuclear launch code book, we had better launch this BlogCast’s two song set.

All you need do is “push the button” on each of these vids. I’d recommend first experiencing Aquarius’ elation before taking the plunge into the deep end of 2525’s despair.

5th Dimension ~ Aquarius / Let the Sunshine In

Zager and Evans ~ In the Year 2525

 

Hmm… now that we’ve tracked through both songs, maybe we should track down 7+ billion lead-lined Hazmat suits? Might the manufacturer cut us a sweet deal if we buy in bulk? Hey, it can’t hurt to ask, right?

 

 

 

 

Idle Hands (yad·da yad·da yad·da) ~ 1 Quick Limerick #085

 

Who’s that small-handed caveman? Here’s the gist:
He’ll thumbs down kind handshakes, with shakes of clenched fist,
He chokeholds gov., like clawed crab,
At private parts, he will grab,
His hunched over gait, needs five-knuckled assist!

 

 

 

 

22 Non-Itty-Bitty “ity” Words

 

Ever since the new regime stormed into DC in January 2017, I’ve been deeply concerned about my homeland and home world’s future. There’s plenty to worry about seeing how their opposing point of view is always running afoul of my own. Even so, this does beg the big question…

Are they not just as entitled to their opinion as I am?

Of course, there IS a fundamental difference between our convictions. What they stand for works toward the detriment of society. And for THAT they expect me to do what? Paste a golden star on each of their foreheads and say, “More power to ya?” HELL NO!

Beyond that, “our” current “leader” (who needs no introduction) does not believe I am even entitled to my own opinion. That autocrat demands unconditional, braindead loyalty even though his own words and deeds amply prove his unworthiness of such consideration. Minus legislative and judicial checks and balances, he could eventually, easily, utterly subjugate / imprison folks like me… perhaps even deport us. What other conclusion can there be? As of late, he’s been bleating out his love-it-or-leave-it ultimatum… virtually making that his reelection campaign slogan!

And this does beg another big question…

Why is it that I can only prove my love of country by loving his plot to utterly destroy it?

Some might suggest that the “easiest” solution would be to take the path of least resistance… to fall into line / march in lockstep with him… he who is marching all of his lemmings over the cliff.

So, just what the hell would it take for me to mindlessly conform? Well… that’d necessitate the absolute abandonment of all the values I cherish… which are also the very same values he lacks… namely…

Accountability
Adaptability
Amiability
Civility
Diversity
Equality
Generosity
Impartiality
Integrity
Lucidity
Maturity
Morality
Objectivity
Rationality
Reliability
Responsibility
Sanity
Sensibility
Stability
Teachability
Tranquility
Unity

For the sake of proving loyalty to a disloyal to America autocrat, would it ever be worth forsaking even one of those above listed values? Again, I’d say, HELL NO!

 

 

 

 

Mr. and Ms. Gorsky’s Message ~ NSFW 18+ Vid of the Day

With the Apollo 11 mission’s 50th anniversary hoopla already a turned page in humanity’s history book, I’ve been seriously considering the merits of presenting, in this venue, an amusing and intriguing backstory to Neil Armstrong’s “one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind” moonwalk.

What I’m alluding to is the Good Luck Mr. Gorsky (GLMG) saga, which has been circulating on the Interwebs since the mid 1990s… its ribald narrative focusing upon an incident that allegedly went down within a specific space / time continuum. Indeed, Wapakoneta, Ohio / early 1940s was where / when Neil, upon retrieving his baseball from beneath his neighbors’ open bedroom window had overheard an R / maybe even X-rated argument… Ms. Gorsky heatedly informing Mr. Gorsky he’d get what he wanted on the day the kid next door walked on the Moon.

If true… this certainly would’ve been an ear-opening moment during Armstrong’s innocent days of youth. Of course, “if true” are the operative words.

What our cooler heads tend to tell us is that GLMG is little more than fake news. In other words, the larger than life personae, which many of our space explorers command, can inspire tall tales. According to SNOPES, even Armstrong, himself, is alleged to have once attributed this cleverly crafted story to comedian Buddy Hackett. Of course, usage of “A-words” such as “alluding” and “alleged” do little to deflate this story’s sense of full blown credibility. Additionally, where are all the YouTube clips of Hackett telling this joke? Maybe I didn’t search long enough?

Well… on the morning after the first moonwalk’s golden anniversary I did wind up discovering my blog topper’s clip… not of Hackett but of a much more tastefully and tenderly presented teleplay… courtesy of the Chicago Comedy Film Festival. They’ve self-described their work as “smart comedy for smart people”.

And be Good Luck Mr. Gorsky fact or fiction… their vignette has afforded us a far deeper than crater deep message… namely…

It’s never too late to find / rediscover love… love that’s as enduring as the footprints Neil Armstrong left on the lunar surface… love as limitless as the cosmos, itself.

 

 

 

Королев … у нас проблемы? (Воскресная песенная серия)

 

SUBTITLE: Korolyov… we’ve got a problem? (Sunday Song Series)

From the Oh, BTW Dept: My knowledge of the Russian language being extremely limited, I can only take it on blind faith that the online translator has accurately done its job. Most assuredly… I’d never want to cause an international incident with Vladimir Putin… one that might provoke WW-III. Additionally, here’s a link to better understand my headlined reference to the Russian city of Korolyov (akin to America’s Houston).

All of that duly noted, let’s turn to the music at hand…

Considering all the media attention re the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 Moon mission, to feature the A-OK album track, Party At Sunday, performed the Cosmonauts… who have no known connection to Russia’s space program… would, ordinarily, make for a logical, Week #45 addition to our ongoing Sunday Song Series.

However… there are some lyrical lapses in logic… to name two…

[1] How could someone concurrently deem a friend an a-hole? And were that “friend” to ever discover such an insult, just how long would (s)he still remain a friend? [2] Typically, one would expect to love… not hate… falling in love.

So, does Party At Sunday serve as a confessional or a social commentary vehicle to critique contemporary antisocial behavior? Or, am I over-analyzing? Sometimes a song is just a song… right? Whatever may or may not be going on here… what’s your take on these issues?

Paradoxes notwithstanding… you are all invited back for more Sunday titled / themed music… seven days from now.

 

 

 

 

Many Moons Ago ~ A July Lunar BlogCast

PREFACE: For this BlogCast, playing back these two YouTube clips simultaneously allows Neil Armstrong to become an astronaut / DJ doing the talk-over intro to the Police track, Walking on the Moon.
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On Sunday, July 20, 1969 at 10:56 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time, Neil Armstrong became the first (known) human to ever set foot on the Moon… and moments later, Buzz Aldrin joined him to become the second.

This “giant leap for (hu)mankind” had been the attainment of John F. Kennedy’s goal… that young visionary giant’s dream fulfilled… AND the culmination of a team effort involving an estimated 400,000 engineers, scientists and technicians… many of them having taken their President’s message to heart.

My own memories of this night center on the combined sense of heartfelt awe, thrills, and yes, even a bit of national pride… heady emotions, which managed to shadow me wherever I wound up. And there had been an abundance of brilliant light to create those shadows… be that the Apollo 11 crew’s beamed back to Earth lunar “Reality Show” (accompanied by CBS journalist / anchorman Walter Cronkite’s own play-by-play) OR during my own repetitious “small step” ventures into the great outdoors to naked-eye gaze upward at the waxing crescent phased Moon… lazily arcing SE to SW across Michigan’s after dark skies.

This past half century has not diminished my own wonderment one iota. I only wish that all who, alongside me, had eye-witnessed this event of the millennium could say the same… and that we… who never lost that rush… had better communicated our feelings to posterity.

Humankind needs an Apollo magnitude sense of accomplishment to transcend the daily drill. If for no other reason, that does keeps us out of trouble. But there really is one far greater reason, too. Without such adventure, humanity risks being reduced to droids… maybe even the Borg magnitude drones that inhabit Sci-Fi’s Star Trek universe.