APRIL 15, 2004 ~
VOLUME 1 ~ ISSUE 2
branflakes@anopenwindow.net
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CHANGE IS GOOD |
AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL? If you are like many Americans, you filed your tax return months ago in hopes of receiving your refund early enough to spend on an extra tanning session or two. And if you are like me, having to pay Uncle Sam his due, then you have waited until today, the infamous date of April 15, to postmark your papers and plop them into the shiny blue mail box at the end of the street. I admit I mail my forms at the last possible moment, but I make sure to arrive at the post office long before the news crews arrive to do their obligatory report on taxation procrastination. I do not need to be featured on the 11 o’clock news sporting my pajamas and nappy hair for all of the Charlotte Metro area to see. However, I am sure that Nick & Jessica would have been prim and proper for the cameras as they performed the annual ritual of dropping off their tax forms (had they lives similar to us normal folk), but they are more than likely back in Hollywood practicing skits for the next production of their new “variety” show. Nick & Jessica. Ben & J.Lo. Tom & Penelope. Beautiful couples abound in this land of the free (to nip and tuck) and home of the brave (to self-tan). The later two couples have hit the streets of Splitsville, but their notoriety will remain at higher levels than I could ever ask for myself. And it’s no wonder, these people are gorgeous! Nick & Jessica are a far cry from the fun loving antics of Sonny & Cher. And Ben, Tom, J.Lo and Penelope rank high among the world’s most beautiful people… all the time. Why them? Why beauty? For
ages, man has held each other to higher and higher standards in regards to
visual appearance. In today’s era, those standards are becoming the norm,
and plastic surgeons and cosmetic dentists have been busily working the
sidelines ensuring that any person can achieve the pre-set ideal that
beauty is a god given right. And what’s worse, these doctors don’t even
have to lift a finger to convince the public at large that cosmetic
makeovers are “for the best.” Television does it for them effortlessly.
The recent onslaught of reality shows like “The Swan” and “Extreme
Makeover” have begun to help twist our notions of what is beauty. And as
much I abhor the movie “Shallow Hal” and the Oprah offspring “Dr. Phil,”
at least these forms of entertainment do something
The debate will rage for years on whether certain individuals are “hot or not” (as the famous website questions), but when do we, as humans, really begin to critique others based on character and merits. I fear that day may be gone forever from our social psyche. But what about the beautiful people? Where do they stand on the issue of how appearance affects social norms? From high on their pedestals, they may scream down to us average looking folk below, “Please just treat me like a normal person. I didn’t ask to be beautiful!” With one hand we lift these better-than-average appearing persons up above the crowd and expect them to reign over us with their uncommon looks, as our other hand is frantically trying to pull them down into the mire with the rest of us. Like puppets on a string, beautiful people dangle before us and dance. And some even go as far as hosting variety shows. Do we need to give pretty-in-pink (and notoriously ditzy) Jessica Simpson the benefit of our combined doubts and accept that she may actually have some talent stowed away within her little pretty head? I admit, she can sing (although Simon Cowell disagrees). And what about her dimpled hubby (and oh-so-fine-looking) Nick? He too can sing, but his acting abilities need some serious honing. Do we accept them as the newest icons of American beauty, by which all others should be compared? After all, it must be tough for them being pretty in such an ugly world. In the memorable 1960s Twilight Zone episode of “Eye of the Beholder,” the character Janet (patient 307) becomes angry and questions society’s values: “Who are you people? What is this State? The State is not God! It doesn’t have the right to make ugliness a crime!” Later, the doctor confidentially admits to a nurse that he sees the beautiful person inside Janet, hidden beneath her ugliness. He expresses the same doubts as Janet: “What is the dimensional difference between beauty and something repellent? Skin deep - or less than that? Why shouldn’t people be allowed to be different?” And why shouldn’t people be allowed to look different (ugly or beautiful)? In our minds, we think we allow difference to be the norm, but we still shop and accept others with some sort of conformity always pushing at back of our minds. The result: ugly people discriminate against prettier people; pretty people discriminate against uglier people. Today I am going to drop off my tax payment, and like the another famous Simpson (Homer), I will probably have filled out the 1040A wrong or submitted my state form to the feds and the federal form to the state. Luckily, I don’t have to include a picture of myself with my return, or I might have to pay a little more, or a little less, depending on the tax preparer opening the envelope. We haven’t reached a point within our society where we pay taxes based on our looks (yet). |
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TODAY |
SUBMISSION:
daturaboy TOPIC: Homophobia I won't go TOO in depth on this topic, although I think most openly gay males could. I do believe homophobia is an issue, but one that has been handled in large part incorrectly. We cannot "force" our lifestyle among those who do not accept us, but we do need to teach them how to tolerate our existence. The anthem of "We're here. We're Queer. Get used to it." is a good cornerstone, but should not be the message we send out to the masses. People willing to tolerate OR accept us, will only do so when they are able to see we are not out to rape their children or convert straights. When they begin to realize we are normal humans, with normal issues and problems, then they will be able to empathize with our plight. |
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SUBMISSION:
walterwz TOPIC: Your Sex Life. What would a perfect date and the your ideal guy be like? Sex
life: Non-existent. It's been over a year since I have had sex. |
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50 GOALS |
STRONG GRIP (10.17.01) Almost every Wednesday I join a group of gay men at a local coffee shop for a hot cup of java, the occasional muffin, and the camaraderie gained by spending time with people with whom I have a lot in common. Tonight was no exception. The cold fall air nipped my cheeks and turned my small ears red. I needed a hot drink, even if it was hot tasteless water. As I entered the coffee shop after bearing cold, I noticed that is was full to the brim (coffee cliché) with people. I waved to a few folks and hugged a few others. Then I made my way to the counter to order from my regular server whom I call the Coffee Man (only because I still don’t know his real name). I ordered my large de-caf coffee (it was already late and I didn’t need to stay up later) and a blue-berry muffin and made my way to sit down with my friends. When I got over to their table, all the surrounding chairs were taken. I stood for about five minutes as we exchanged stories of our long day. However, my skinny little legs began to tire (I think my bladder was getting full, too). I looked around and saw a nearby stool unoccupied, but it was at a table where a lady was feverishly reading what appeared to be a Master’s thesis. I stepped over to her in all my shyness and whispered if I could use her empty stool. At first, she didn’t hear me so I had to repeat the question. “Excuse me miss. Is anyone using this stool?” She looked up from her deep reading, startled, and answered “Um... no.” I immediately took this as a sign that it would be ok to take the stool from her table. Maybe I was hard of hearing or maybe she was the one with the disability. I clearly saw her gesture that it would be all right with her if I removed the stool. But as I went to move the stool, I noticed it was caught on something. I tried a little more, but it did not budge. I looked down at the stool and there, tightly gripping the legs, were this lady’s feet. I was taken aback. How could this be?! Maybe she DID misunderstand me. I glanced back up at her and she focused on her paper once again. And here I was, standing once again, and confused. I have noticed that my grip onto things is sometimes strong, and at other times, very weak. My grandmother has always been a pack-rat, and somehow I ended up with that gene. I my closet, I have boxes and boxes of stuff that I no longer need. I kept college notes for an average of four years (even for classes I knew I would never refer to again). I have also kept cards from ex-boyfriends, out-of-focus pictures that I took as a child, and shirts that even Goodwill would not accept. Once I even bought a set of National Geographic magazines that ranged from 1975 to 1990. That’s a lot of nude aborigines let me tell you. Anyway, the set FINALLY dwindled down to four collector magazines after moving them so many times (they were really heavy). Their laminated covers allowed my grip to slip, and I learned a lesson. However, my grip on some things tightens over the course of time. I own a red hat that I bought when I was a senior in high school. In light silver, the letters of the University of New Mexico (UNM) were sewn. I didn’t begin wearing the hat until I was in college, so it didn’t mean much until that point. Once I did begin to wear it, it became a part of my identity. Brandon was not seen without his red hat on many days. Even now, almost ten years after I bought it, I still wear it. It is simply a piece of who I am, and I don’t plan on tossing it any time soon. Unfortunately, there are also things I hold on to that should have been trashed years ago. A few years ago I made a trek all the way from my home state of New Mexico to sunny Florida. I did it all for “love” (as I so convinced myself). In the short six months that I had known Jay as he lived in Florida, I began to relinquish all ideas and dreams I had that involved remaining in my home state. I gave up going to UNM grad school for Urban Planning. I gave up the idea of one day working for the city of Albuquerque in their planning department. I gave up beautiful sunsets, mountains, and family who lived nearby. I also thought I had given up the single life, only to gain a happier one in someone I cared for. I was sadly mistaken. Not two months into my relationship with him, I was longing for a time when I could go out on my own and meet new people without having to explain to my boyfriend where I was and who I was with at the time. I moved over 1800 miles only to realize that I couldn’t let go of something that began elsewhere. Ultimately, my grip on wanting to be single helped to end my relationship with him. I admit I hold on to many things that I sometimes hide from others, and even myself. I don’t think we would be human without some sort of secrets to keep from others. Once I thought I was able to convince another boyfriend of mine that I was not going onto the computer anymore and chatting online. He trusted me. I flat out lied to him and told him that it was “all under control.” Soon, he noticed changes in me that I thought were not so apparent. Again, my secrets and my grip onto things ended another relationship that could have flourished into something great. Have you ever given the illusion that you have given up something, only for someone to later find out that you are still gripping it in the shadows under the table? Anyone who has said “I do” at the alter and then turned around and cheated on their spouse is still holding on to what they thought they used to have in “freedom.” Anyone who has defeated an addiction, yet hides their proverbial bottle in the deepest cupboard hidden from sight will never let go until all is brought out into the open. And anyone who holds to the idea that true happiness will “just happen” without work on their own part will be rudely interrupted by the slamming door and he leaves you. What are you holding on to? Take a moment and look under the table. It may not be pretty under there. Pieces of gum stick to the underside and mud is scrapped along the legs, but we must peer into areas that are unsightly at times in order to assess what we have, and to determine what we no longer need. Remove your feet from the stool and get back to reading. Life is waiting for you. And just think, by removing our grip, you may be helping someone else. |
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80s Bingo!
[more photos: http://bingo.anopenwindow.net and http://www.gaybingocharlotte.org] |
to show that one can
live a self-fulfilling and meaningful life by looking normal, or dare I
say “ugly.”
