Now New York Likes Its Gays

I'd love to say I'm hopeful, but as the blind man said, "I'll believe it when I see it..."

Yahoo: Gov. David Paterson announced plans Thursday to legalize same-sex marriage in New York. The proposal is the same bill the Democrat-controlled state Assembly passed in 2007 before it died in the Senate, where the Republican majority kept it from going to a vote. Democrats now control the Senate.

"I'm introducing a bill to bring marriage equality to the state of New York," Paterson said, drawing a parallel between the fight to eliminate slavery in the 1800s. "Rights should not be stifled by fear. What we should understand is that silence should not be a response to injustice. And that if we take not action, we will surely lose."

I actually have more faith in Travelocity's fab gay agenda:

Billboard Backbeat: The Final Day

My final day at Billboard, March 25. Sweet memory.

Who Am I, Exactly?

According to Gawker.com, consumer magazines as a whole lost nearly 26% of their ad pages in the first quarter of 2008. Newspaper chains advertising declined by 30% in the same period. Trade pubs—like Billboard—posted a 27% collapse in ad sales and a 21% whallop in revenues from January 2009 compared to January 2008.

Meanwhile, Yahoo! reports today, meanwhile, that the number of people receiving jobless benefits exceeded 6 million for the first time ever, according to a government study. "Analysts expect the labor market to remain weak for the most of this year with companies reluctant to hire new workers until economic recovery is well under way. The Labor Department offers that companies cut a net total of 663,000 jobs in March, sending the unemployment rate to 8.5%, the highest in 25 years."

What's an unemployed writer to do in an industry that is heaving its final breaths—in a nation whose economy shows signs that recovery is doubtful in 2009? My answer: I'll be god-damned if I know.

So far, I've lined up a sliver of freelance work after paying an exorbitant tax bill on Monday that cleaned out my checking account (thankfully, that's because I earned an unprecedented amount of previously untaxed freelance income in 2008). Severance and health benefits remain through the end of June—and then unemployment starts... a whopping $425 a week. Which is taxed (madness). And then I also begin paying into Cobra for health benes, essentially balancing unemployment against healthcare. And I got to eat some vienna sausage. And pay the maintenance. Air conditioning? Ah, who needs it? I'm already sweating and it's 50 degrees.

Without a doubt, lean living is ahead. The average length of time to find a mid-level white collar job is now estimated at 28 weeks—and even that figure has been adjusted from 20 weeks earlier this year. As Sheena would say, "I'd rather go to the dentist any day" than deal with such uncertainty... and it's clear that my "talent," "reputation" and "experience"—those three golden grains that I've been assured are going to make this a less-than-disastrous transition—just ain't enough. For anyone.

I'm not panicked yet. I've got savings (as opposed to dwindling investments, thank god). Expenses are in check. Ayhan is working. But I obviously have no choice but to reinvent what it is I do for a living. Blogging, while a great pleasure, isn't exactly a cash cow, either. Those two ads up to the right on this page have fostered a whopping $8 in income. That'll get me a sub with extra lettuce and a Diet Coke. Hold the chips, please.

For the first time in 25 years, I'm forced to ask, who am I? The uncertainty is like a giant palm branch waving in front of my eyes, constantly blocking the view. Not since before college have I had to wonder: What am I going to be?

Susan Boyle: 'Britain's Got Talent'

With her less-than-polished appearance—bushy eyebrows, haggard hair and corner-store gold gown—the audience of the U.K.'s "Britain's Got Talent" was quick to laugh off last Saturday's 47-year-old contestant Susan Boyle, who lives alone with her cat as a church charity worker in Bathgate, West Lothian. The show's background almost mimicked a circus side show as she announced, "I'm going to make that audience rock."

Judge Simon Cowell inquired, smirk intact, "What's the dream?" and she responded, "I'm trying to be a professional singer." Simon: "And why hasn't it worked out so far, Susan?" to which she humbly fired back, "I've never been given the chance before, but here's hoping it will change," aspiring to be as big as Brit's beloved Elaine Paige.

As the first notes of "I Dreamed a Dream" from "Les Miserables" began, eyes were rolling throughout the audience. And then came her first note. The clip of her audition has been viewed 2,485,245 times in 72 hours—and I see why. I sobbed like a child when I watched this lady, who admits she has never been kissed, sing with her heart on her sleeve, confident if not dowdy, with one of the great surprise vocal performances of a lifetime.

Of course, see for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY.

After the performance, Simon pronounced her voice "extraordinary" and fellow judge Amanda Holden, close to tears, offered a standing ovation halfway through. Third judge Piers Morgan said the performance was "without a doubt the biggest surprise I have had in three years of this show."

In a world that is increasingly tough to smile through, the humiity and humanity of this moment in pop culture is worthy of the world's applause. God bless this striking figure and her innate talent. It should make us all feel a little bit better about being alive.

Sunday Brunch-ola

...Finally, the rain stops, it's a beautiful day in the park with Jones and family... who head back to D.C. just as the sun begins to shine... Grr, still there was cinnamon french toast to be had at the beautiful Blue Finn in the W Hotel, Times Square.

Sick & Sicker

If my body is a temple, then let's start demo and build from the ground up.

I've been sick since Sunday evening: dizziness, ringing in my ears, a second migraine headache this morning with massive blind spots, chronic insomnia... This is no fun.

Nightmare: 'I Work At R&R!'

I was shaken awake this morning in the midst of a horrifying nightmare. I took a job working at R&R! Technically, of course, I was just laid off from said company, but in the dream, I had gone to work in an office full of dark wood cubicles, neatly aligned in endless rows, working directly with the crew of half-wits that I used to edit—but in real life, was neatly protected from working with directly, since they are located on the West Coast to my office here in New York.

Most of those in the dream were anonymous faces—except for the mag's overall manager C—the woman with sixth-grade journalism skills that ultimately engineered my demise. She was frighteningly present. My NYC editor P and anyone that I had worked with in NYC were nowhere to be found.

In my dream, I was going through my desk, wondering what the fuck had led to such a diabolical decision. Why had I taken the job? What was I going to do? How could I return to a place that I was relieved to have off my back, editing unskilled hacks again?

I awoke with a start, amazingly without screaming, and shook my head to make it all go away. Thank god it was all an illusion. I still shudder at the mere thought. Mercy! No more white wine at 2 a.m. for me!

Flash-Forward: Chuckle's 20s... 20 Years Later

It was pure serendipity that brought both Amy and Laura to New York at the same time. Back in my 20s in Washington, I was blessed with a group of friends that were as tight knit as a spider web... we were an indelible group of friends that I can only compare to today's Lunasa crowd... ever evolving as boyfriends and girlfriends entered and exited, protective and loving and ever active in one another's lives—partying, living together, marrying within the circle, deaths of friends, square dancing(!), experimenting with all the things that one does in the age group and much music. La and I met as workmates at the Washington Business Journal in the late 1980s.

The gang's chairwoman was Laura—ever known to me as Jones—and she more or less commandeered the activities (in much the same way that Kristina does in current times). She and longtime hubby Jack came to NYC this weekend with their 12-year-daughter Emma. Meanwhile, Amy (at right, in the '80s/below, today) arrived in town this same weekend and joined us at Lunasa yesterday with her boyfriend Christian.
Back in the day, I was, I suppose, the token gay, and my various boyfriends of the 1980s were allowed entrance—until life turned a page. The same was true of so many of us young 'uns as we lived the ups and downs of our glorious 20s. So many indelible memories of those days, and a warm, fuzzy security blanket that protected all of us through our days as young adults.

So Amy and Christian joined at Lunasa Friday night, followed by a fab dinner at Piola. Amy hasn't changed a lick and in fact, is more beautiful now. Her man Christian is quite the handsome gent, eh?Saturday I met up with Jones and clan in the afternoon after she and Emma saw "Wicked" on Broadway and I brought them to the Heights. We did the requisite walk along the Promenade and admired the nabe's architecture, then Ayhan joined and we had dinner at Turkish restaurant Taze.

None of this felt like a reunion; it was just picking up where we left off so many years ago—and that cool cats, is a sign of true friendship—just connecting the dots to the present. That is precious and rare.

Lunacy @ Lunasa/April 10, 2009

Ah, that felt awfully good... not to mention the return of my beloved work wife Kristina... wait, do I have to call her my ex now that I'm not employed?

Sheena Easton: Picture Perfect

No artist in my life has impacted me more than Sheena Easton, as previous posts have attested to. Consider that it was 1981 (um, 28 years ago) when I first heard “Morning Train,” concurrent with my discovery of Billboard magazine, as a freshman in college: and life forever changed, with discovery of the Hot 100, where I was able to mediate Sheena's every weekly move throughout her heyday in the early '80s.

When I arrived at Billboard in 1995, as Sheena was appearing on Broadway in “Grease,” it was my penultimate mission to meet her, write about her—and ultimately to know her. Score! Fourteen years later, I continue to indulge in that honor. After seeing Sheena perform live some 599,000 times, starting in 1982, the thrill never wears off. Ironically, following my layoff from Billboard last month, I said to pal/workmate Al, “I could sure use a little Sheena right now.” And just like that, our muse was appearing in Atlantic City.

But my god, how can I possibly take a day off during the week to attend a show in Atlantic City? Oh, wait, har har bee-bop bippity har har, but of course—because I an unemployed. Talk about the stars aligning. This would never have been possible had I not been axed. All together now, cool cats: "Whee!"
So I took the morning train... uh, sorry, bus to AC and met up with fellow Sheena geeks Andy, Al and Ev for the show—and thanks to a robust tip, we were seated in row two. I was able to locate sexy bud (and Billboard singles stalwart reviewer) Chris—who came to my going away party and sadly appeared in no pics (remedied here).

The show started at 7 p.m., and as always I swooned. Sheena sang “Almost Over You,” perhaps my most treasured, “The Lover In Me,” "We've Got Tonight," “Telefone,” “Sugar Walls,” “Morning Train,” “For Your Eyes Only”—and a wondrous, surprise, “In the Winter,” her Janis Ian cover from “Madness, Money & Music,” which she deemed "the saddest song I ever recorded."After the show, for better or worse, only the four of us were allowed time with Sheena—and at 50 years old, she is as stunning and sassy as ever. Good talk about the job market (she is actually taking college classes to teach elementary education!), and offered empathy about my situation. Then, of course, I announced, “We just happen to have cameras,” followed by the habitual indulgence of new pics with our Sheena.Priceless. Another unforgettable, blessed experience with Sheena…

By the way, here's a little back-story—and I’ll try to make this as quick as possible. When I was a teen, I suffered from debilitating migraine headaches… led by blind spots that wholly covered my field of vision, followed by a headache that rivaled the worst hangover imaginable. Typically, they occurred at the end of a period of intense stress—so I’d deal with them, say, on the first day of family vacations. Most notably, such happened on the day of my interview with Billboard magazine as I drove into the train station. I covered my eyes, took four Excedrin and within an hour was able to see clearly again—but facing the job interview of my dreams, my head felt like someone was coming down with a hammer every 20 minutes. Obviously, I made good anyway.

As the years have passed, the migraines have mercifully spaced themselves out… it had been at least three or four years since the last—until this morning. What the fuck? But doesn’t it make sense? All this stress dealing with the finality of Billboard, looking toward today—the ultimate exhale, seeing my Sheena. I got up at 8 a.m.—after a typical night of insomnia where I lay awake for three hours—and literally couldn’t believe my eyes. I smacked down three Advil and lay back down, praying that my field of vision would clear within an hour. Thankfully, by the time I left at 10 a.m., for the 11 a.m. bus, I was A-okay. There was no headache, even. But how bizarre. And a bit scary.(Live photos and Sheena/Chuck photos by Andy Dremann. Thanks, Pink! You are definitely a pro!)

Walgreens: Oh-So 'Politically' Correct

After a few nutcases complained, Walgreens has removed the Obama Chia from its shelves. I so get it. I mean, a Chia head that grows hair that dares to resemble a black man. If this doesn't stop, somebody might actually figure out that the president is black. Shh!

April 8: Happy Birthday John Schneider

Sex bomb John Schneider, who played Bo Duke in "Dukes of Hazzard" in the 1980s, turns 49 today. He also recorded 10 country music albums, including 1981 crossover hit "It's Now Or Never"—an Elvis cover—which finished at No. 19 for the year on the Taylor Top 100.

Schneider proved his enduring sex appeal in the millennium, playing the peepaw on "Smallville." We should all look as good at 49.

April 7, 1969: OK To Hide Porn Under The Bed

Forty years ago, on this date in 1969: The Supreme Court unanimously struck down laws prohibiting private possession of "obscene material."

Stanley v. Georgia, examined a police search of the Georgia home of Robert Eli Stanley to seize alleged betting paraphernalia. Instead, they confiscated three reels of porn and charged Stanley with "possession of obscene materials," a crime under state law. The conviction was upheld by the Supreme Court of Georgia.

The Supreme Court unanimously overturned the decision and invalidated all state laws that forbid private possession of materials judged obscene, on the grounds of the 1st and 14th Amendments.

Well, that's a relief. I was afraid of having to light a giant bonfire tonight...

10,000 Strong

Today, I passed the 10,000 hits marker on The Smoking Nun! I began recording hits Jan. 18, meaning that we've been counting for 79 days. Repeat traffic stands at 44%. Thanks for reading, cool cats!

And Vermont Makes Four For Equal Rights

An earthquake may have rocked Italy last week, but I swear the U.S. is feeling a similar seismic shift. Four days after Iowa legalized gay marriage, Vermont joins the fray, becoming the fourth state to grant equal rights, with Massachusetts and Connecticut.

The state's House recorded a dramatic 100-49 vote, the minimum needed to override a veto from homophobe Gov. Jim Douglas, who reckoned that the state's legalized civil unions did enough for homos. The guv commented in the press that the issue of gay marriage is "a distraction during a time when economic and budget issues were more important. What really disappoints me is that we have spent some time on an issue during which another thousand Vermonters have lost their jobs. We need to turn our attention to balancing a budget without raising taxes, growing the economy, putting more people to work."

Hey, Jim, fags are out of work, too, and we still should have the right to marry. Bite me.

Of course, there's a long road ahead, since random state approvals don't do dingo for federal immigration laws, which still forbid recognition of bi-national gay marriage. Further, under the federal Defense of Marriage Act, the U.S. government does not recognize same-sex unions, even those that are legal in Massachusetts, Connecticut and several foreign countries. It's going to take decades to undo the damage put in place by our previous buffoon president. Let's just hope that Obama not only works toward saving the economy, but remembers his campaign vows to social justice, as well.

Linked On Deborah Gibson Web Site

What a treat! My recent post about Deborah Gibson has been linked on her official Web site.(Click to see larger.)

God Bless Iowa

Last week, Iowa became the third state in the nation—with Massachusetts and Connecticut, and the only state in the Midwest—to approve marriage between gays and lesbians. The state is ranked No. 30 in terms of U.S. population.

According to the Des Moines Register, "With no appeal as an option, opponents say their only 'hope' to overturn [the] decision is a bid to amend the state constitution. But that path, which would eventually require a public vote, would not yield results until 2012 at the earliest."

Nuttin' against Iowa, but who'd have seen that coming? God bless Iowa, um, wherever it is.

Smile, Baby

Topping my list of flattering features on the male form—call it a fetish—is a "beauti-full" mouth of pearly whites. This handsome gentleman gets my Crest gold star for the day.

Vintage Sheena

This Thursday, I'll be seeing Sheena Easton in Atlantic City for oh, about the 500th time. Can't wait. Was snaking around the Web today and found some fab, fave vintage photos that are now revolving as my laptop screen-saver. Love this lady. Boy, that's a news flash, eh?

Manic Monday

This is the kind of Monday I could get used to. Went into the city for a 1 p.m. appointment with my longtime tax man Tony Francis—he's been doing my finances for about a decade—so we always have a good time catching up, talking music as much as money. I then took a leisurely stroll down 8th Avenue in the drizzly rain, blasting tunes on my iPod Shuffle, subwayed home, watched "Desperate Housewives" with Ayhan... he headed to work, I wolfed down a hotdog and took a lil' nap watching "Family Guy."

Then spent a couple hours looking at pretty boys on blogs, Ayhan came home and we watched three episodes of "30 Rock," and now I'm enjoying a marathon of the catty new season of "The Real Housewives of New York City."

This unemployment is for the birds: I'm spreading my wings and soaring with a freedom I've not felt in decades.

Here's a pair of stunning pics of hottie James Marsden. What a pretty boy, what a handsome man.