I came across this little story about forty years ago, when I was returning to the Christian faith after a long period of agosticism. It meant a lot to me then. It means even more now, looking back across the years.
There are things you can't really understand until you have lived a long life, travelled a long way, loved much and lost much. And then you see the footprints. Thanks be to God.
Click to enlarge.
And in the wilderness (as thou hast seen) the Lord thy God hath carried thee, as a man is wont to carry his little son, all the way that you have come, until you came to this place.
Official photograph of Representative Barney Frank, 2008.
Former Massachusetts Congressman Barney Frank, one of the first openly gay congressmen and a champion of gay rights, died yesterday at his home in Ogunquit, Maine. He was 86 and had been receiving hospice care. A mainstay of the Democratic Party for many years, he brought his considerable intelligence, shrewd pragmatism, and outspoken personality to bear on many important issues during his thirty years in the House, and was the co-sponsor of the landmark Dodd-Frank reform bill in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis.
Frank is survived by his husband, Jim Ready, two sisters, and a brother. He was a hero of our community who will be much missed and long remembered. Here are some videos recounting his life and accomplishments:
Steve Hayes reviews the classic celestial fantasy, filmed in glorious Technicolor in England at the end of World War II, based on the play by the great Noel Coward. Never mind what the critics said at the time, or later - this is a beautifully filmed, delightfully upper-crust comedy of the kind that isn't made anymore. And darling Margaret Rutherford, the old dear, is a complete hoot! If you've never seen it, your're in for a treat - enjoy!
Bonus: The English country house that was used for exterior shots is still standing just outside London, and just as lovely as it looks in the film. Check out the real estate listing from 2019 to see some stunning photos of the inside and outside.
On Sunday, Pete Buttigieg spoke at a town hall in Butte, Montana, once the copper capital of the world, where a citizens' initiative, the Montana Plan, is a lively topic just now. He's been going around the country in recent months making speeches and taking questions at events like this. I haven't watched any of them because I know I would agree with just about everything he says; and also because I'm sick to death of political speechmaking, which seems so futile in the face of the calamity that has engulfed our country.
But I said to myself, you ought to listen to him and post his video for others who just might want to hear what he has to say. So here you go, fellas. I will just add that I admire Pete tremendously, and he will certainly get my vote for president, if I live long enough to see another free and fair election.
In my estimation, Pete is a damn good man, a fine man, honest, honorable, intelligent, compassionate, and courageous. A man at once humble and inspiring. I wept listening to his simple speech, which seemed to me the prologue to a noble story: David versus Goliath, perhaps. He is marked out for some high destiny, I do believe.
But what do I know. Listen and judge for yourself.
P. S. -- I will note here that I don't quite agree with Pete's thesis that "the system is broken." When a man's body is overwhelmed by a filthy contagion, it's not his system that is broken. Our body politic has been overwhelmed by disease and corruption that may prove fatal unless a remedy is found, and soon. That's how I would put it.
In 2009 and again in 2011, President and Mrs. Obama hosted a series of concerts in the East Room of the White House, each one showcasing a different genre of contemporary American music. In the July 2009 concert, country star Brad Paisley debuted his new single "Welcome to the Future," which your Head Trucker thinks ought to be counted one of the all-time great country songs: full of hope, optimism, love of country and of our fellow human beings.
The song and video together constitute a brilliant work of homegrown American art - celebrated in the White House by a decent and dignified President, and not for his own glory. At that time, we still had hope, the country was still holding together, and the misty future seemed a green and pleasant land.
But here in this gray, grim, and ghastly future, this performance makes me weep for our country and the world - for several reasons. Do I really have to explain why?
Okay, fellas, hot weather will be here soon, and you know you need to buff up to look your best at the beach. Just follow this easy buddy routine, and you'll both be pumped up before you know it.
Presented as a public service by the Blue Truck. Watch out for those rug burns, though.
Many and many a year ago, I remember a summer when a buddy and I would drive down to the coast every weekend to lie out on the sand, drink beer, and broil ourselves brown. We also had a workout routine we often practiced in the living room of his pad . . . but, um, not quite like this one.
Johnny promises you'll have something good in your mouth in just five minutes.
In recent months, M.P. and I have become fans of Johnny Mac, the Sauce and Gravy Guy on YouTube. Not only does he really know his stuff (he has a diploma from Le Cordon Bleu in Paris), but he's a Southern boy like us and really loves what we call home cooking.
It grieves M.P. and me no end to hear of so many people today who have no idea how to cook for themselves, and are afraid to try. So they send off for factory-made food that comes in a box, and spend twice as much money to eat half as much food! I tell you, we sometimes sit around the kitchen table and just cry our eyes out, thinking of the terrible waste and ignorance afflicting this country. It's so sad!
So as a public service, I propose to present some of Johnny Mac's videos here to encourage all the poor, helpless non-cooks to give it a try. Cookery is NOT HARD. (Baking is tricky, but that's another story.) And the beautiful thing about Johnny Mac - apart from his studly big beard - is that he shows and tells you all you need to know, quickly and simply, without fuss or fanfare.
As the first in what may become a series on this blog, here's a simple, delicious dinner idea that anyone can make who can cut butter with a knife: first the pork chops, and then the gravy to go over them. This is something our mamas used to cook often, only they made a much simpler gravy from just oil, flour, milk and/or water. If you want to learn to cook for yourself, this is a great place to start.
Here's how to fry pork chops - but if you don't have a meat thermometer as Johnny does, just cook the chops until they begin to brown and all the meat inside is white, but not longer; pork chops get tough when overcooked.
And here's Johnny's deluxe gravy recipe:
For a simple side dish, make a box of mac & cheese, or some instant mashed potatoes; easier still is to bake a potato or two in the oven or microwave. For your second veggie, open a can of beans, peas, greens, carrots, or corn, which are already cooked and only have to be hotted up on the stove or in the microwave. Butter a piece or two of plain bread, pour yourself a beverage, and there's your dinner - for less per person than the cost of burgers and fries at McDonald's. Enjoy!
P. S. -- For an even quicker and simpler dinner: when your pork chops are about done, open a can of pork & beans, blackeyed peas, or creamed corn, and pour over the pork chops. Stir around in the hot oil and let bubble a couple of minutes until all is hot, then turn off the fire and help yourself. This method mingles the pork flavor with the veggies in a delicious way.
As performed live by Liberace, 1983. Somewhere along this same time, I took my mom to see him when he brought his show to our town. I knew she would enjoy it, but didn't think I would get much out of it - Liberace was very old hat by that time . . . and besides, he was more a than a little, um, flamboyant. You know what I mean, fellas? I wasn't comfortable with that. Just keep it to yourself, I thought.
But we went, and both of us had a grand time. He truly was Mr. Showmanship - a consummate entertainer, and from the moment he stepped onto the stage in a glittering sequined suit and fur-lined cape, he enthralled everyone in that huge arena, individually and collectively, and held them spellbound until he played his last note. Virtuosity. Spectacle. Magic.
I've never seen anything like it, before or since. Not a dull moment in the whole show, musically or visually, and the outfits kept getting more and more flamboyant - oh Mary, don't ask! But never a hint of vulgarity, and the audience just begged for more, blue-haired ladies and manly men alike.
So this is for you, my darling red-haired Mama. I miss you so.
There's just something about a man with a cigar . . . Ted Turner, 1977
Ted Turner, the colorful billionaire and philanthropist, 6 feet tall with a rakish mustache and a cocky, Rhett Butler swagger, has died at the age of 87 at his plantation home in northern Florida. A shrewd, talkative businessman full of boyish exubarance, with big dreams and big wins, he was called "The Mouth of the South" for his sometimes outrageous public comments. Among many other accomplishments, he was the father of CNN and Turner Classic Movies, and for some years was the owner of the champion Atlanta Braves baseball team. He wasn't born in the South, but we'll claim him anyway.
I recollect when he started his first TV station in Atlanta, where I was living at the time. Channel 17 was a low-budget start-up that I chiefly remember because it would play Top 40 songs all morning? / afternoon? on Saturday - producing the first music videos, all done in-house by using special effects with the TV cameras - like mirror images, upside-down dancers, a rain of polka dots, and so forth. Primitive, but fascinating at the time. I watched them on my nifty little Sony TV with a 5-inch screen, which was the last word in cool back then.
He was married three times and had five children. His third wife, from 1991 to 2001, was Jane Fonda, who has written this lovely tribute:
He swept into my life, a gloriously handsome, deeply romantic, swashbuckling pirate and I’ve never been the same. He needed me. No one had ever let me know they needed me, and this wasn’t your average human being that needed me, this was the creator of CNN, and Turner Classic Movies, who had won the America’s Cup as the world’s greatest sailor . . .
He was a good-looking rascal, but straight as a board, and therefore typically boring: not someone I kept track of; I hadn't thought about him in years. But as far as I know, he wasn't hateful or malicious, nor was he a thief or a rapist, as we hear so much about today. And looking over his obituaries, I am struck by all the many good things he did or tried to do for the country and the world. He actually cared about other people - what a concept - and had a big heart.
If you can spare the time to look at some of these retrospectives, you will see that, unlike some other big-mouthed billionaires, he actively promoted world peace, nuclear disarmament, environmental regulation, wildlife protection, responsible journalism, and other noble causes. He put his money where his big mouth was, too - lots of it.
So I have to say, Good on you, Ted. You used your time on earth wisely and well, and your treasure too. Rest in peace.
TCM:
PBS:
WSB (Atlanta, 1988):
And a 52-minute interview with Charlie Rose from 2004 - it's most interesting to hear Turner's condemnation of Bush's invasion of Iraq, and contrast that with the insane, homicidal ravings of the current occupant of the White House:
P. S. -- Turner was no dummy, either. He wanted to major in classics (Latin/Greek literature and history) in college, until his daddy threw a fit and made him choose something else. In one of the videos above, Turner quotes from memory a famous passage from "Horatio at the Bridge" by Macaulay:
To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late;
And how can man die better than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods . . . .
Screen capture of the speech from the Associated Press broadcast. Queen Camilla, in white, is seated to the King's left.
King Charles III addressed a joint session of Congress yesterday, as his mother had done in 1991. Surveying the whole field of our common heritage from Magna Carta to the present, and displaying a deep understanding of American history and politics, his eloquence and humor went over well with the assembled representatives, who interrupted him with standing ovations a number of times. A lovely speech by a kindly old friend, full of warmth, wisdom, and gentle warning - well worth heeding by those now in power.
If only they would!
The Associated Press transcipt of the speech can be found here.
This gold single by the Righteous Brothers was #1 this week in 1966 on the Billboard charts. It holds up very well, I think. They had a unique sound, a masculine sound that must have appealed to every gay boy and man in America. It certainly appealed to me, just beginning the mysterious ascent to manhood. Enjoy.
From the collection of Harold T. O'Neal, a gay home movie buff who made many films of gay life in California from 1939 to 1989. This one begins with a well-dressed but rather dull garden party, followed by scenes of several beautiful young men splashing about in various states of undress somewhere along the American River. A lovely glimpse of what seems a much more innocent time.
Double-click the screen to go full size; hit escape to exit.
Once again, I state what M.P. says, and he ought to know: if they're only swimming, it's not porn.
This popped up in my YouTube feed the other day: South, a surprisingly early gay drama shown on British television in 1959 - long before there was any such thing in America. Newspaper critics were hostile to the display of "perversion" on the small screen, but the fact that it was shown at all proves that the British were ahead of us in that regard.
The first gay-themed TV movie over here that I recall was That Certain Summer in 1972; Hal Holbrook and Martin Sheen played the lovers. Young people today would not understand the trepidation of watching something so taboo and forbidden. I watched it with fascination - and no little repugnance. I was attending college, but still deep in the closet, and terrified of actually encountering any of those wicked ho-mo-sexshuls. (Oh but I fantasized often . . . then begged God to forgive me . . . over and over again. An absurd agony that blighted all my teenage years.)
P. S. - I must say, I'm disappointed and a bit shocked that the UK Government has not yet erected some kind of memorial to their late beloved monarch, who served them so long and so well. Shame on them!
For several years now at dinnertime, M.P. and I have enjoyed watching episodes of To Tell the Truth from the early 1960s. I remember it well from my childhood, and I think it is the most entertaining of all the old game shows - perhaps because, unlike with other game shows, neither the panelists nor the audience knows who the real featured character is, so it's fun to try guessing who it is.
This particular episode is perhaps the most entertaining of all, for reasons you will discover if you watch it. Big laughs.
Some pics of our latest festive dinners. I post these mainly for our own future reference.
No pictures of the food, but our Palm Sunday dinner was a simple one of breaded cod, fondant potatoes, and steamed broccoli. The table setting was simple too, as we like to do for Holy Week:
M.P. laid folded green napkins in a cross pattern under the center candles.
Easter Sunday:
They're hard to make out in these pics, but in the centerpiece are three Easter eggs on sticks, yellow, pink, and blue.
Braised lamb shanks, herbed carrots, baked potatoes. The first course was creamed chicken soup. Dessert, not shown, was lemon mousse in parfait glasses. Everything was quite delicious.
Paul Krugman again states the plain truth: if a civilization dies tonight it will be ours - all that America has ever stood for.
I won't ask where the Republican voices are - they sold their souls to the Devil a long time back when they swore allegiance to Trump. But where are the protests? Where are the voices of sanity and outraged conscience? If there is any is outcry, in the streets or in the TV studios, the news feeds I see way down here in Texas sure aren't reporting any. The train is about to fall off the bridge, and no one seems upset in the U.S. of A., where life is humming along as usual.
For God's sake, will no one tell this maniac to his face to just stop it? Will no one stay his evil hand from this monstrous crime? No one at all?
Just the extreme profanity of that last message alone would have meant instant political death for any previous president. But the horrific threat is unconscionable and unpardonable.
Your Head Trucker asks: Why are there not millions in the streets right now, all over this country, demanding an end to these evil threats? Destroying a whole country? Killing millions of people? If that isn't the Devil talking, what is it?
And you know, what goes around, comes around. Don't think this country or its leaders are invulnerable. And there would be a chain reaction of events, probably, that just might devastate the whole world. Is there anyone in Washington with enough guts to stand up and say NO to that maniac?
Time's a-wasting. We're standing on the edge of a bottomless abyss.
BTW: There's a lot of talk online about invoking the 25th Amendment. But that would only make J.D. Vance president. How do you feel about that?
15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.
16 Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?
17 Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.
18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.
19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.
20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.
21 Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.
22 Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?
23 And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.
Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the human race, you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Addendum, 3/20: In his Palm Sunday homily, Pope Leo said God does not listen to the prayers of those who claim to wage war in the name of the Prince of Peace, quoting from the first chapter of Isaiah:
Joyful spring returns with its unending message of new life:
And yet, in the midst of life we are in death. The Guardianreports:
Pope Leo on Sunday said death and suffering caused by the war in the Middle East are a “scandal to the whole human family”, as he once again pleaded for an immediate ceasefire.
As the US-Israeli war on Iran enters its fourth week, the first U.S. pope said that he continues to follow with “dismay” the situation in the Middle East and in other regions torn apart by war and violence.
“We cannot remain silent in the face of the suffering of so many people, the defenceless victims of these conflicts. What hurts them hurts the whole of humanity,” Leo said at his weekly Angelus prayer in St. Peter’s Square.
“I strongly renew my appeal for us to persevere in prayer, so that hostilities may cease and the way may finally be paved for peace,” he added.
This was our Sunday dinner, held on Monday night because . . . we're old and retired and we don't have to follow a schedule. Main dish was slow-cooked corned beef, with boiled cabbage, carrots, and little white potatoes, and some beef gravy. M.P. made Irish soda bread to go with dinner.
Dessert was chocolate cake covered with a dark chocolate ganache and decorated with some icing made of chocolate and Guinness stout. Everything was scrumptious! And notice the "pot of gold" centerpiece M.P. fixed up, ringed with artificial shamrocks.These simple photos are mainly just for our future reference.
In recent months, M.P. and I have become fans of handsome Max's fascinating food history videos. He does a superb job of researching ancient and modern recipes, as you will see in this episode.
We are living in a time when it can be hard to hope. Each day we wake up to some new assault on our democratic institutions, another setback to the idea of the rule of law, an offense to common decency. Every day you wake up to things you just didn't think were possible. Each day, we're told by those in high office to fear each other and to turn on each other, and that some Americans count more than others, and that some don't even count at all. Everywhere we see greed and bigotry being celebrated and bullying and mockery masquerading as strength, we see science and expertise denigrated while ignorance and dishonesty and cruelty and corruption are reaping untold rewards. Every single day we see that, and it's hard to hope in those moments. So it may be tempting to get discouraged, to give into cynicism. It may be tempting for some to compromise with power, and grab what you can, or even for good people to maybe just put your head down and wait for the storm to pass.
But this man, Rev. Jesse Lewis Jackson, inspires us to take a harder path. His voice calls on each of us to be heralds of change, to be messengers of hope, to step forward and say, "Send me." Wherever we have a chance to make an impact, whether it's in our school or our workplaces or our neighborhoods or our cities, not for fame, not for glory, or because success is guaranteed, but because it gives our life purpose, because it aligns with what our faith tells us God demands, and because if we don't step up, no one else will.
How fortunate we were that Jesse Jackson answered that call. What a great debt we owe to him. May God bless Rev. Jackson. May he rest in eternal peace.
It's above freezing in Michigan once again, and Kevin shows us his newly redecorated dispay windows, full of colorful kitchen appliances and nostalgia, not to mention the elephant next door. BTW, it's sunny and 80 degrees here in Texas.
Poster for the Texas International Pop Festival, August 30 - September 1, 1969. (from Wikipedia)
It may surprise some of my truckbuddies to learn that Texas had its own hippie rock concert on Labor Day weekend, 1969, just a couple of weeks after the famous one in New York state. I'm surprised, too: I never heard of it, and neither did M.P. We were both still in high school, far away from Dallas. And I was too square to care; still am. But as matter of social history in my own lifetime, it was interesting to stumble upon these news videos and reminiscences of the event, which some surviving participants say was life-changing.
First, an official video from the City of Lewisville, a little ways north of Dallas proper, where the festival was held in a large open field next to Interstate 35. The site has been heavily redeveloped since then (see maps). The promoter who first appears at 1:36 is a son of the founder of the Six Flags theme parks, Angus Wynn, Jr.
It says a lot about small-town Texas that the upright, God-fearing citizenry at the time were outraged, not by the long hair, rock music, and drugs, but by all the nekkid bodies skinny-dipping in the nearby lake in broad daylight! The locals knew the kids were naked because they were out there in their motorboats, intently scrutinizing all that indecency through binoculars.
Notice what the newsman in the next clip says about "it's hard to know what to call these young people" - most of them were "weekend hippies" whose hair and clothes were still within the limits of respectability. In the next few years, what was strange and different, even shocking, in 1969 became ordinary: that's how the fashion industry works.
Just a couple of years after this event, I was sitting in a goverment class when the instructor posed a discussion question: "What is a hippie?" We all looked at each other mutely as we realized that "hippie" had become "normal." Long-ish hair, flares or bell-bottoms, wide belts, long sideburns, mustaches, beards, and hip-hugging blue jeans - most young men dressed that way, at least for slogging around campus, regardless of their socio-political orientation. The words "hippie" and "groovy" were already obsolete; but blue jeans - workman's clothing - became the default choice for casual wear, and remain so to this day.
But 1969 was the starry-eyed Age of Aquarius: harmony and understanding, sympathy and trust abounding. It's poignant to hear the earnest young folks in these clips spout all those utopian sentiments of peace, love, and joy: "just be yourself, do what you want to do - people will love you for it." A happy thought, a hopeful thought - but mistaken. Human nature just doesn't work that way. But they surely found that out later on.
This last video opens with a crotch shot that proves more than words ever could that rock and roll is all about sex, and vice versa.
From the video description by pianist Paul Barton:
Mongkol is a 61-year-old former logging elephant. His captive-held life was spent hauling trees in the Thai forest. His body shape is deformed through hard labor, he lost his right eye and tusk in this brutal logging practice. Mongkol was rescued and brought to Elephants World to spend the rest of his days relaxing peacefully in freedom by the River Kwai. I discovered Mongkol is an extremely gentle, sensitive elephant who enjoys music, especially this slow movement by Beethoven which I play to him occasionally in the day and night.
We watched this last night while eating supper at the kitchen bar. I'm sure many of my truckbuddies will recall thumbing though those catalogs as M.P. and I did in the 70's. It wasn't nearly as good as Playgirl, but sometimes it was all you had to dream on.
Bonus: In this a local news report on West Hollywood in 1980, you will get a glimpse of the International Male store there. I never knew they had an actual store building.
Last night for our Sunday dinner I made Swiss Steak, and M.P. loved it - gave me an A+!
Swiss steak with tomato gravy over white rice; fried Italian green beans; garlic Texas toast. First course was that lusicous garlic soup (not shown) left over from last week. Click to enlarge.
It was really a joint production, though - M.P. did all the prep work (mis en place), and had everything already chopped, measured, and laid out for me when I got to the kitchen. This was a very tasty, very filling meal: a real treat. M.P. thanked me profusely, and I was proud to have cooked something to delight his tastebuds, instead of the other way around as is usual at our house.
I had seen this video by Johnny Mac, the Sauce and Gravy Guy, and it looked so good and so easy, I just wanted to try it myself. I followed his directions, but at M.P.'s suggestion, added a couple of drops of Louisiana Hot Sauce™ and 2 teaspoons of sugar; also a quarter-cup of chopped bell pepper. Cooked and baked it all in a cast iron deep skillet* for 2 full hours; the meat came out fork tender and scumptious, the tomato gravy full of luscious flavor.
If any of you fellas want a real man-pleasing meal, this is it! We highly recommend Johnny Mac's simple recipe. Total prep time for me, first time out of the chute, was 45 minutes, not counting all the pre-prep work M.P. did.
* - I'm not affiliated with the Lodge company; I just think everyone who likes to cook ought to have one of these handy things. It's a skillet and a dutch oven all in one; and the handle makes it super easy to use on top of the stove or in the oven for all kinds of roasts, stews, soups, and whatever. It will last forever with proper care, which is very simple.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, harmony; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that I may seek not so much to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.
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We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love.
and welcome to the Blue Truck, a blog for mature gay men with news and views on gay rights, history, art, humor, and whatever comes to mind. Plus a few hot men. The truck's all washed and gassed up, so hop in buddy, let's go.
CAUTION: For mature gay men only beyond this point. Some posts and links may not be suitable for children or the unco guid. You have been warned.
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My Story
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Churches say that the expression of love in a heterosexual monogamous relationship includes the physical, the touching, embracing, kissing, the genital act - the totality of our love makes each of us grow to become increasingly godlike and compassionate. If this is so for the heterosexual, what earthly reason have we to say that it is not the case with the homosexual?
It is a perversion if you say to me that a person chooses to be homosexual. You must be crazy to choose a way of life that exposes you to a kind of hatred. It's like saying you choose to be black in a race-infected society.
If God, as they say, is homophobic, I wouldn't worship that God.
