Of transvestites (Part II)

Well, the new year is almost upon us, so I figured I'd better get one more entry in for good measure. We had a terrific visit with Michael's mom, and, in keeping with the transvestite theme of her trip, picked "Breakfast on Pluto" for our Christmas evening movie. It's the latest from director Neil Jordan ("The Crying Game"; "The Butcher Boy" -- a movie that a few of you out there know highly disturbed me and I ultimately wish I'd never seen) and starring Cillian Murphy ("Batman Begins," "28 Days Later").

Now, Cillian highly creeped me out in "Batman" (one of my favorite movies of the year and the best of the franchise that I've seen) even before he got into his bad-guy Scarecrow getup, but he is now a new favorite. He is absolutely adorable and perfectly cast as Patrick "Kitten" Braden in this movie, which is sweet, endearing and bittersweet and has a fabulous soundtrack (everything from Bobby Goldsboro to T-Rex [While we're on the topic, I vote for Cillian to play T-Rex frontman Marc Bolan should there be a biopic] ).

Kitten is an orphaned boy but really a girl (or is it the other way around?) in 1970s Dublin who is on a search for his mother (who, he's told, looks like Mitzi Gaynor and was swallowed up by the big city of London). The movie follows his Dickensian life and escapades (set against an Irish Republican Army backdrop), which ultimately lead him to the family he didn't expect.

Cillian Murphy gets a well-deserved Golden Globe nod for the role. He's up against Johnny Depp, who everyone knows is one of my loves, especially when it comes to the characters of Edward Scissorhands/Crybaby/Gilbert Grape, but I think I'd give it to Cillian this time. He's that good. I haven't seen any of the other movies in the category but can't really imagine that Pierce Brosnan rivals either Murphy or Depp, and Nathan Lane already got his props for "The Producers" with a Tony, didn't he? Don't be greedy! I reckon Jeff Daniels in "The Squid and the Whale" is quite good, but I just don't know what to make of Joaquin Phoenix as Johnny Cash. Then again, I've only seen the previews.

The sweetest lei

For a real treat, go here to listen to "Hawaiian Gardens" (parental advisory: F-bomb alert, but in lyrical, ukelele style) by my friends Champipple (including members of Love Jones). Michael and I were lucky enough to get a preview in Louisville at Derby time. (For my few Coloradan readers, that's Lou-ah-vul, Ky., not Lewis-ville, Colo.)

A Christmas classic

OK, call me a dork, but I have loved this ever since I took it to read during show & tell in elementary school. Yes, Virginia, I was naive and out to prove to my classmates that there was factual evidence of Santa (I didn't know of the existence of credit cards at the time and figured there was NO way my mom could afford the gifts lavished upon her only [some would say spoiled] child). Enjoy and happy holidays!

Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus
(Editorial Page, New York Sun, 1897)

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus? Virginia O'Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a sceptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

And BINGO was her name-o!

Michael has always told me that, every year for Thanksgiving, he, his mom and sister would go to what inevitably ended up being an inappropriate movie to see in mixed company. In keeping with their family traditions, we decided to take Becky (Michael's mom, who is visiting for Christmas) to a charity fund-raiser. Inappropriate, you say? Let me elaborate: a charity fund-raiser put on by the Denver Cycle Sluts, a local group of drag queens. What's so inappropriate about drag queens? you may ask. Nothing whatsoever. Until, in addition to the usual bingo fund-raiser, the event includes a pre-show of sometimes naughty, often downright raunchy holiday songs lip-synched by said drag queens.

Regardless, Becky has a great "What I did during my holiday break" story to share. She is in insurance, so we're guessing she'll be the only one in her office with a drag queen bingo story. She even got some flirting from a really drunk guy who, as she later pointed out, was also flirting with Santa.

As for the bingo, it was pretty much your standard fare, though in addition to "basic" five-in-a-row bingo, there were games like "Four hookers, one on every corner." Some games were in keeping with the raunchy theme, and I won't repeat them here. The prizes were nothing too outstanding; one of the sponsors is Coors Light, so there were a few beer signs. There was also a gift certificate to a local store.

I wasn't really too intrigued by any of the prizes until the last one, on "blackout" bingo (cover every square on your card). It was a fairly sizable metal Corona Light cooler that I thought would be a great addition to our back porch come summertime. Anyway, I was down to one number, and three times, people called bingo who had to wear the wig of shame because they called false bingos. They finally called my number, and I went up front to claim my prize. Lo and behold, another woman -- dressed as a reindeer, no less -- had the same numbers. Both sets were deemed good, so it was a bingo-off. This involved one of the drag queens holding a bottle behind his/her back, and at the count of three by the audience, the hand it was in determined the winner -- left for the reindeer, right for me, and it was the right hand!

I won the cooler with two CDs inside, which I graciously chose to give to the reindeer, apparently a sore loser, because as I handed them to her, she said, with her face screwed up all sarcastic, "Thanks!" But I won the cooler. It is a major award, even better than the fraGEElay lamp from "A Christmas Story."

Oh, and in case you're wondering, our camera is still broken; I found this image on eBay, where the same cooler recently sold for $79.95!

A mess of Chihuahuas

We had our first Chihuahua meetup yesterday, and what a hoot. I can't imagine there's much that's cuter or more entertaining than a dozen dogs ranging from 2 pounds to 14 pounds (Angus) running around, some decked out in playclothes, some with nothing more than the fur on their backs.

Angus seemed to have a blast, though probably not as much as I did. We had young Chis, old Chis, itty-bitty Chis and, well, Angus. He looked like a great Dane next to the tiniest, a brindle named Belle, who was wearing a T-shirt the size of my palm and a "diamond" choker. Unfortunately, in the continuing saga of the broken camera, I have no photos of this momentous occasion, though a guy there took some that I hope to get ahold of. Besides, the meetup is a monthly event, so we will get another shot at photos once we get off our duffs and buy a new camera. (And in case you're wondering, the photo above of my two favorite guys is from last Christmastime. Now you see the real horrors of what is Angus' sad, miserable existence and the lengths to which he must go to please his people.)

A weather update

Since my last missive on the weather, things have changed a bit, you could say. We still have lots of sunshine, but wintry weather has definitely set in. It snowed the night of Dec. 2, and there has been snow on the ground, to varying degrees, ever since. We have still lucked out with some days in the 30s-40s, but we've been seeing highs of 20 and below and are coming up on more lows in the single digits. It's still bearable; our biggest complaint is the uneven warmth of our old townhouse. Michael has sealed every window in the place and weatherstripped, but our kitchen is like an icebox. Lately we have been spending as little time in there as necessary. Apparently our neighbors have the same problem; even so, our landlord is having a furnace person come by tomorrow to make sure nothing's amiss.

A Golden day

Had a great visit with in-laws Leah and Kyle. I must say the highlight was a trip to Golden, Colo., home of Coors. Now, I have never been a fan of Coors (especially Coors Light) and have never hesitated to say so, but after visiting the brewery, I have to admit I'm a bit of a convert. I won't be rushing out to stock the fridge with Coors products, but getting a firsthand look has given me a new appreciation.

Golden is a picturesque Wild West town nestled in the mountains (that's Leah in the middle photo with a true Western backdrop). The Coors sign looms over the land, and the brewery takes up 5.5 miles, as we were told by our trusty tour guide, Jeff O. (Kyle insisted he was more of a Justin.)

The tour starts on a bus and includes a quick spin through the heart of town (that's the main strip in the bottom photo) before you return to the brewery. The smell of hops and barley smack you in the face immediately upon entering. You're put in a circle with other free-beer seekers; then you get carded, stamped with a "21" and slapped with a wristband.

This was only my second alcohol-manufacturing tour (went to Maker's Mark in Loretto, Ky., in May), and parts weren't quite as interesting as the bourbon tour -- where you get to stick your finger in a gigantic vat of mash that looks like oatmeal. We also were a bit disappointed with the final portion of the tour -- a view from above and behind glass of the packaging room. There's no bottle-down-the-conveyer-waiting-to-be-capped a la "Laverne & Shirley"; pretty much all we saw were Keystone cans being packaged into 12-packs.

The initial highlight of the tour is a stop in the "Fresh Tasting Room" (see first photo), where you can mosey up to the bar for a sample of Coors or Coors Light and sit on plastic "ice blocks" to enjoy them. The ultimate highlight is a stop in the lounge for three free full-size samples. I think we all liked the Winterfest best; there were also samples of Blue Moon, Zima, regular and light versions of Coors and the untasty nonalcoholic Coors. Me? I had a frozen black cherry Zima smoothie -- like an Icee with a kick!

We finished off our evening with a stop in Boulder (actual home of "Mork & Mindy," though I haven't sought out the house yet; sadly there's no Mork statue in town that we know of) for pizza and more beer, and returned home for Trivial Pursuit 90s edition, where Michael started out pieless, then clawed his way back to victory. His winning question (paraphrased)? "What Western city's state-of-the-art airport suffered setbacks over its faulty baggage-handling system?" Answer: Denver!

Heat wave

After Denver saw record lows for the date yesterday (high of 3/low of -13), a veritable heat wave moves in today, with a high of 39 (feeling like 34) and low of 20 (feeling like 14). Before you say, "See, we told you so," you need to know this: We went out to dinner last night with Wisconsinites, and even they said it was cold. It also probably felt much colder to us because we walked to the restaurant, Piscos, about four blocks away. And four blocks in negative degrees feels like it will never end. (And Leah and Kyle, if you are reading, you will be happy to know that we shoot up to 46/26 the day you arrive!)

We spent much of yesterday working on weatherizing our creaky, old windows, and then we went to a book sale at work. We found a copy of the new Chris Elliott novel, which, frankly, sounds really bizarre, but he's doing a book-signing next week at The Tattered Cover, and I am not about to miss that! The Tattered Cover is an amazing bookstore, though I think Powell's in Portland is still best, as it also sells used books. We also found copies of "Tab Hunter Confidential" and Tatum O'Neal's "A Paper Life," which reminds me I forgot to list one of my favorite movies in my profile! I've already started reading the latter and was saddened to find out that neither of Tatum's parents were there when she won her Oscar!

Last night we watched "Kicking & Screaming." Despite a few moments of Will Ferrellness, it was barely worth the $1 we spent on its rental. I am a sucker for Will Ferrell movies, even though I am disappointed half the time, but this one was just plain mean-spirited, and don't even get me started on the kids jumping out of a butcher truck in bloody aprons. For classic Will Ferrell, "Old School" gets my vote every time. His small role in "Wedding Crashers" is worth the price of admission, too. Thc coolest part about the movie rental is that we got it from a kiosk at our local grocery store. You put in your debit card; the machine charges you $1/day and dispenses your disc.

Amen!

"I think it's more important to put Christ back into our war planning than into our Christmas cards." -- the Rev. Bob Edgar, general secretary of the National Council of Churches and a former Democratic congressman from Pennsylvania

A little visitor

Our soon-to-be 2-year-old friend Emma visited with her parents, Jon & Fran- chesca, and Angus seems to have found a new best friend. He LOVED her. He has never met kids in his own house, just at the park.

I worked with Jon & Franchesca in Oregon, and they graciously put me up for a week here while the apartment was being readied.

There's really not much more to say about any of this; I just wanted the chance to post this cute photo!

High times

We are getting settled into our new place, and just in time for Leah & Kyle's (Michael's sister & brother-in-law) visit next weekend from the Northwest. Had a new futon delivered this week, which means they won't have to sleep on the same crappy air mattress they did during their last visit (sorry, guys). Apparently it's fine for one person, but Michael & I discovered here before the movers arrived that it does NOT comfortably sleep two -- unless your idea of a sound night's sleep is tossing and turning and squeaking all night while praying you're not bounced out the window in the process.

We're living in a red brick townhouse very near downtown, a four-minute drive from work. We are in the Capitol Hill neighborhood close to Cheesman Park and love living smack in the middle of the city. Capitol Hill tends to have a reputation as the "crime-ridden" neighborhood, but from what we've seen of this city, it's a pretty safe, cushy place to live. Like most cities, there are pockets of good and bad, but the bad seems mild compared to what we've seen in past environs. The housing prices are also all over the place in this area (though I'd say the low end is about $180,000 for a one-bedroom condo), including a house less than a block away going for the super-low bargain-basement price of $949,000. I think the crime probably was higher in this area in the past (and even then, north of where we live) and has continued to be viewed that way by people who feel the only safe place to be is in the suburbs.

We've gained lots of space with our new place, which Michael guesses is from the turn of the century. The front two rooms -- parlor (with nonworking, columned fireplace) and formal dining room (which we are using for now as a second living area) with built-in buffet-- are fairly small and are followed by a sizable pantry (big enough wall space for Bad Ronald to live in) and big kitchen. There's a screened-in porch off the back and a common back yard, where Angus loves to lie on a bench and soak up the rays. We also have a storage basement, a necessity when you are me, as poor Michael has learned. Upstairs are our bedroom, the small spare bedroom/TV room and possibly the smallest bathroom ever with a sink so low that even I feel tall. There's a clawfoot tub, though, so that makes up for the tiny factor.

I will post some photos soon. We haven't hung pictures yet, so things are still looking a little sparse.

That's it for today. Almost time to take Angus for a walk. And for the record, we got a proper snow for the first time since we've been here. We got probably 2-3 inches, and it's one of those soft, fluffy-looking snows that brightens everything and coats the tree branches.

Super Freak

Saw the ever awe-inspiring Freakwater last night at the Bluebird Theater. Would've had a live shot to include, but the camera wasn't charged.

Lead singers Catherine Irwin and Janet Bean hail from Louisville (though the latter has lived in Chicago for years) and do their hometown proud (despite the knocks of "Loserville," from their latest album). Their high-lonesome harmonies will send a chill up your spine and put a tear in your beer.

If you want to check them out, I'd start with "Old Paint," which contains two of my favorites of theirs, "My One Desire" and "Kentucky House," in addition to "Waitress Song," one of their better-known songs, if there is such a thing.