See Any Resemblance?

Sarah Palin - 2008 Republican VP Candidate











"Mary Ann" of "Gilligan's Island"

"Another Suitcase in Another Hall..."

So here I am again, struggling with sobriety, on anti - depressants and most awkwardly, sharing a space with a partner? friend? roommate?....well you get it. Separate bedrooms, do we kiss or just hug when we get home work? I've been down on this road before, but what do I felt sent me spiraling this time?

After a cancer scare last year, I returned to "normal" life. I was almost euphoric but still cautious about my health. I found out a couple of months ago I was cancer free. One would think that would make the world right. Instead, the reality of what happened to me sunk in and I just lost it. That calm demeanor before the surgery gone. Two and half of years of being sober down the drain. The personal feeling of defeat almost crippling. The heart racing rapid cycling again setting in of running from bar to bar after work trying to calm what I can't define. With this behavior, the person of which you're sharing your life is now confused, lost and knows something has gone terribly wrong.

Well the road once travelled leads you to a doctor and therapist because even you know the behavior has to stop. So here I am back to square one, in a place very familiar and sad with a horrible conclusion: It is all my fault. To Greg, my former partner of 10 years who I completely exhausted with unpredictable mood swings, it is great to finally have you in my corner as a friend. To John, whatever defines what we are right now, I know you remain supportive. And to my God given brother David who listens to all my shit most weekday mornings in what has become known as: "commuter chat", I love you with all my heart.

A Trophy Wife!!!!????

My parents were very attractive people so my siblings are very fortunate that we turned out "pretty." I was called a "trophy wife" yesterday. This comment has been thrown my way a couple of times. It's not funny and more important flattering.

As a kid I was skinny, awkward with a big mop of hair. Even as an adult I've never had a true perception of self (some would disagree.) Honestly, the first time a felt any sort of flattery was when I entered a gay bar for the first time. This helped my self esteem more than anyone could imagine. But what I didn't know was that there was an agenda by most men just to hook -up.

I am a relationship oriented person. My past partners have been all men "people didn't see me with." That's because my attractions are driven on more than the esoteric. Don't get me wrong, they are all handsome. Now let's look at the other side. I have been compared to the late John Kennedy Jr. (when I was 25.) I have been fit, chubby, skinny, in between, buzz cut, high and tight, every extreme you could imagine. Well as I've grown older (45), I still care for myself, but now it's "what's you see is what you get."

Now about this "trophy wife" shit, first of all the bitches don't work, and to be told that my relationships were built on the foundation of my looks is just.......well, don't make take out that box of crazy! I remember working for a cruise line and one particular employee seemed to always harp on the fact that I always got what I wanted because I was "pretty." I would not justify any of this with an answer.

Being reminded yesterday got me to thinking. There have been times my partners have reminded me that my back hair is a bit out of control, or that I deeply resemble a friend only to have my then partner remark: "but a chubbier version." David, that is for you, because you were there and knew how much it hurt me. I'll never forget your look across the table. I was also labeled "frigid" on the way home. Now I will admit that I had not been "out" since the feminist movement and knew very little of how to "get my freak on." I have been bought ''practice toys" (frightening), shown films that made me want to run to church and pour holy water all over myself.

Lessons learned: There is more to me than my tired ass face. I have an awesome sense of humor, I'm easy to talk to (thanks Daddy) and finally at 45, I can say I love myself, love handles, surgery scars and all. And as for all this "trophy wife" crap. The only trophy I ever "earned" was at my sixth grade science fair. I guess I won that because I was just a "cute" kid. Whatever.

"I only saw him years later when he was worn down by life..."

The first time I saw the film: "Field of Dreams", upon its conclusion I called my father and in tears told him how much I loved him. In many ways my father was John Kinsella.

My dad played ball while serving in the Army and was almost drafted to Milwaukee until a game injury to his lower left leg ended any chances of even seeing the Minors. I'm sure the reality of this was crushing for him. For my Dad, life was always centered around the sport he loved and my Mom, but a new course called of finding a job and supporting a couple of kids.

From there it takes a familiar course of alcoholism, gambling and self -medication of grieving a dream never realized. My Dad had many escapes but never wavered in his role as a father. As a young boy I can remember playing catch with him, but Dad always wanted the sport to come to us. There would be no forced "living a dream" through one of his children. Sadly, none of us took to the bat and glove, but he didn't care. I remember watching my dad play softball at many company picnics. He was the star.

Later when I became a man, I worked down the street from my father. I pressed forklift tires and was a parts "monkey" all day, while Dad ran an adhesive tape warehouse. I remember some of those New Orleans' Summers and I'd drive to grab some lunch money from my father. I would find him sitting and sweating on the floor of a small office with no air conditioning. He always had a big smile when I walked up: "What do you need son?" Of course he knew the answer. I think he enjoyed seeing me during his day.

In 2004, I returned home to care for him in his final days battling lung cancer. If I was told I had to carry him every night to bed, I would have, because he would have done the same for me, for any of us. He was one of the most selfless men I have ever known, humble and kind. In what is still hard to put into words, his final moment was with me, both of us not afraid when I said: "Daddy, you can let go. It's alright." He nodded and quietly passed.

Now living in Chicago, I have been to so many Cubs games at Wrigley Field and every time I'm there I wish he were with me. On a beautiful, sunny day it is like heaven, his heaven and somewhere a dream has finally come true. "What are you grinin' at you ghost?" Gotta love that line.

This about says it all for a Monday!

Brad Ausmus Gallery :- )

(center down- Astro's player card,a rare shirtless, another player card, Brad and mom)

It's Baseball Season......

Okay.....this is just hysterical and very gay but a great tribute to one of the best looking men in Major League Baseball: Brad Ausmus of the "Houston Astros." Play and enjoy....oh, and make sure you definitely see the last shot.