By Jeff Walsh
With his acoustic album "Motorcycle Childhood," Tyson Meade uses spare arrangement and raw vocals to share details of his life. It's very different from his other role as the openly gay lead singer of the Chainsaw Kittens, where he used to take to the stage in lipstick, tights and mini-skirts.
By Janis Ian
In a small town somewhere at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains, teachers prepare for the coming semester. Professors grimly consult lesson plans, breaking in new Dockers ("I still wear the same size I wore when I graduated," they brag, bellies hanging over their straining waistlines like blubber off Ahab's whaler). Dormitories are surrounded by troops of exterminators bent on eradicating last year's mess before the health department shows up for a final check. The grounds are infested with newly arrived victims, ready to give the university their all and terrified that anything beyond the boundaries of the parents' homes will eat them alive. If they only knew.
By Janis Ian
I am standing with my tit caught in a wringer while a mall-haired technician tells me to relax. I am thinking that if men had to put their testicles in a vise as part of a yearly physical, we would have a cure for the common cold by now. I am very frightened.
The pink slip came as we were leaving on vacation: "We have found what appears to be a routine abnormality..." What's routine about an abnormality? I decide to put on a brave front and joke that in all my life no one has ever called me routine; then I burst into tears. Later on I do the grown-up thing and panic, furtively examining my breasts in the mirror for changes. I'm afraid that if I touch them to check for lumps, I will set something off. I wish they were smaller. I wish they were removable. I wish they were on anyone but me.
Well, last week I returned to Woody's for the first time in a few months. I've lost a little weight since the last time and I donned a new shirt that made me look even thinner, so I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I mean, I'm not hideous; surely someone would find me attractive enough to dance with me, and I was in the mood for some fun.
My friends and I decided to go at the last minute; the night actually started as a gay bowling night, but after an hour of some really bad bowling we decided that we should go somewhere that was more suited to our strengths. We packed my car with two of my girl friends (one a lesbian, one straight), a girl and guy from the gay union whom I didn't know very well before then, and me. After a good amount of time listening to various bad club songs and me singing along to Cher (whom I LOVE because she sings in my range), we finally started seeing the city in the distance. That was when I sort of freaked because I've never driven in the city before, but with the help of my friends and the fact that there were almost no cars on the roads because it was late on a Wednesday night, we finally maneuvered to a parking garage and got out. Then we did the usual "take only what you need: license, " discard thing, and we left the car to walk to the club in the bitter cold without jackets because we weren't sure if there was a coat check or not. The streets were very different from the way they were in October. There were no cute boy couples walking with their arms around each other or groups of guys laughing loudly and greeting the friends they ran into on thre street; the streets were very empty right up to the club. We finally got there, paid, and entered.
I think about Chris intermittently through the day, but I mostly think of him at night before I close my eyes and try to sleep in earnest. I don
Assuming, of course, that these "blogs" take the place of our much coveted discussion boards... Here we go...
My girlfriend and I broke up last week. She lives in Toronto... I live in Vancouver. It just wasn't going to work out, I guess. But you know how it is? You really love someone and you're really intimate with them and then *POOF* its over. Sigh. I'm not as Sunny as I normally am. I guess it's for the best though. We can both meet people in our own region now... the long distance thing just shouldn't have happened. I don't know how we managed to keep it alive this long. heh. It makes me laugh thinking about it. I miss her though. I wish she'd hop on the next plane home just so we could make love for the weekend. Sigh. It's a delusion. Nothing more.
I should've known this was coming. I've felt it approaching for weeks, like how you can sense an impending storm by the smell and feel of the air. I'm sure I did know, somewhere inside me. But I ignored any warnings I may have given myself and now I find myself sitting at my computer struggling not to cry.
You called your letter a reality check and a letter from one adult to another.
Excerpt dated October 25, 2000.
"Unfortunately, school does not teach all the important things in life. Now that you are in your mid 20s, you will begin to gain a greater respect from life experiences in the next 10 years
