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contours provocations
journal - 2001-0113 - sat 2200 Better, Men in Black, No Flavor, Nathan Reed, Joey, "My Kind of Television" I guess I'm slowly feeling better. But it seems to be a gradual process. I noticed that I've not had any fever today, but I continue to feel fatigued, lethargic and disinteresed. Nothing holds my attention for long, and I have to make a very conscious effort whenever I do anything. And ever so often, I lapse into a wheezy fit of coughing. A very strange part of the continuum is that I don't have a fix of how I felt a few days ago. At this point, I keep thinking I should have tried to go back to work several days ago. Of course, in actuality, several days ago, I was ready to have someone shoot me. Also, everything has melded together. I remember being at work, but then I realize that was almost ten days ago. I feel like I've been in a temporal distortion. Late yesterday afternoon, I shotgunned myself into going to the laundry. There was no other choice. The hampers of dirty laundry were beginning to emit an odd green light late at night. And then I noticed a three-headed bug scampering near by. My televison reception was also becoming erratic. And when I dropped some coins on the floor, they immediately rolled toward the laundry. But the real kicker was Thursday afternoon when two men in black appeared at my door. The gist of the conversation was that a satellite had picked up elctromagnetic radiation from my house matching the frequency of beryllium depletion discharges. OK! Jeez! I get the hint! I really did not feel like doing the laundry, but with the men in black holding my cats hostage, what option did I have. I had to don a haz-mat suit and use long stainless steel tongs, but it didn't take too long. After doing the laundry, I stopped off at Shoney's for the Friday seafood buffet. Since my only other meal the whole week was the lunch after I'd been to the doctor on Tuesday, I thought this might be a good idea. As I suspected, nothing had any flavor. And after about half a plate of fried shrimp, clams and catfish, I was no longer hungry. Even the walnut brownie did not do a lot for me. Last night I read parts of one of my favorite books, "Jack of Hearts" by Joseph Hansen. The story of Nathan Reed, a 17-year-old in 1941 in a small California town who comes to realize he's queer. All the characters are slightly eccentric, but not streotypes. Hansen does a wonderful job of capturing what pre-WWII America must have been like. Before "Jack," Hansen wrote a novel featuring Nathan as a 19-year-old living with his lover in 1943 Los Angeles. For a couple of years, I thought the books were written in sequential order. Nathan is such an appealing character, I hope Hansen gives us more. But it has been several years, and I've not seen a follow-up. Hansen may be far better-known for introducing the gay detective David Brandstetter. First appearing in 1970, Brandstetter is remarkable for being non-sensational and devoid of the inner loathing of previous gay characters. The books are also interesting in that the characters age as the series progress. I suppose there is always the possibility of a prequel. For lunch today, I did the usual Little Tokyo thing. Like last night, my taste buds failed to respond. And I only ate about 3/4 of the meal before stopping. I even passed on fried ice cream. After lunch, I ambled over to Best Buy to get a new cable for my modem. And believe it or not, I found exactly what I wanted. Then around the corner to Barnes & Noble, where I picked up several magazines and a couple of books. I bought a copy of "Joey," but thought it was "XY." Randy Harrison, Justin of QAF, is on the cover. These two mags offer a great services to gay teens, but I wonder who actually buys them. I'm sitting here watching the very tacky Cindy Margolis show. Totally devoid of any intellectual depth or redeeming social merit. And you may ask, "Well why are you watching it?" Errrr! I'm waiting to see if they have one of the contests in which a guy and a girl switch clothes. There are especially interesting if the girl is wearing a skimpy bikini. because that means the guy will wind up with it. The last time, the guy had to hide behind the girl because so much was showing. Ah! My kind of television. PAX!
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