Windy City Rodeo

Cowboys and such

Been a nice easy going weekend. Went out briefly to Hamburger Marys last night, which recently expanded with a larger bar and a tiny dancefloor. The best part was that you can actually SEE folks there, and by that I mean there’s tasteful spots and an under-lit bar.

Diverse crowd, music pounding, and courteous albeit distracted bartenders made sticking out like a sore thumb with my plaid shirt and bad shoes completely tolerable. Only something different piping through the speakers would have made it more favorable, but I think I’m outta the mainstream when it comes to that sort of thing.

Finally took some time to sort through photos from the rodeo. Made ’em square black and whites, not to approach the talent of The Octothorpe, but because I need to change things up from time to time.

So here they are: Windy City Rodeo 2005 – with folks from LiveJournal, Homorodeo and a total of one horse photo.

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Balloons, Woody and Bears

and I laughed like I always do
and I cried, like I cry for you
and balloon man blew up in my hand

—Robyn Hitchcock

The topic of balloons came up after dinner last night. Maybe you’ve been to BigBoysBalloons.com and you already know they specialize in big and unusual balloons.

Everyone has their thing. But some quirks are exceptionally dangerous.

Like after watching the Behind-the-Music-like exposé of Grizzly Man (Timothy Treadwell) last night on ABC Primetime. They didn’t focus so much on his intimate footage of bears, but more so, the tragedy that would become his life when he didn’t get the gig as Woody on Cheers. That spiraled into a bout of drugs and some meandering until he had a religious experience up in Alaska with a bear.

It’s no spoiler to tell you that he went bonkers filming these beasts, getting way too close and eventually dying by their paws. Oh, and even though they say he had a girlfriend—he was supergay. The full article is here. The movie is out soon.

The moral of this entry? Don’t be too upset if you don’t get the Woody part, bears kill fags, and balloons are your friend.

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At Camp

Post river

One of the best parts of the rafting trip was the group of 30 fellas. Perfect size to almost get to know everyone’s name as we randomly filled up boats, left wet butt prints on the bus seats on the way back to camp, and taunting our guides with innuendo over dinner.

I’d be remiss to forget the nurse that tended to a cut on my foot that’d been bothering me.

The evening ended with a flop of folks looking up at the ceiling of a geodesic dome tent listening to music.

TONS of photos from the trip

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So long

Nursing drinks at One Mo Cup

It’s been so long since I’ve hung out with the Chad, Jim and Kevin. Man how time flies and man how I’ve missed seeing these fellas—friends from long before the ol’ bloggin world.

They seem to have left a few of their bad habits behind and replaced them with new, healthier ones. Among them, gardening (identifying plants as we walked around town), and eating better (though I made sure they stopped that immediately.)

It was hard not to marvel at Jim and Chad’s hair, now so long. What Kevin had trimmed off they brought to me in a ziploc bag. (Long story, involved a bet that he wouldn’t trim his beard until I’d come visit.)

When they’re around, it’s important to have pen and paper handy—lots of whacky ideas need recorded. We broke out of our usual anthropophobic selves and caught a movie, rented more, played with gadgets, traded music, and laughed. A lot.

They’ve an uncanny ability to scour my place and instantly find the things I wished I’d hidden. This led to a discussion for some great ideas on making guests feel really embarrassed if they open a medicine cabinet.

One extra bonus of having them over is they wake up stupid early and tidy the place from the previous night. Yesterday though, as they finished the dishes, knocking lightly on my bedroom door, it was time for them to continue on their trip and time to say so long.

My Anus is bleeding

Found this message on a telephone pole next to the parade route.

I went up north to Columbus to catch the Pride festivities in Columbus (somebody stop me from repeating myself). It was the biggest thing like that I’ve ever been to—and the folks, for the most part, looked so… …. …normal. It was nice walking amidst tens of thousands and not knowing, or caring, what someone preferred in their bedroom. Lots of families. Some exposed boobies. And water was only a dollar a bottle. Which might seem stiff, but usually at big events I expect lots of markup.

The only thing that seemed oppressive on this day was the heat.

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Camp Buckwood

4 Seasons Lodge

Just back from two days out at Camp Buckwood in Indiana. A friend suggested the last minute affair, noting the fine weather and summer solstice. Good enough reasons for celebration.

Although the campgrounds were relatively empty, it offered a good way to get to know the facilities. An outdoor pool, hot tub, really well constructed bathrooms and showers, hiking trails and a lake.

A quick tour of the lodge revealed a large dining area, living room, nice suites and a bunkhouse.

More than a few times, I thought we were in California, but with greener grass.

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Cachorro (Bear Cub)

Late to the game, but didn’t miss the party

This might not be the best movie to plop in the DVD player with grandma hanging about, depending of course how she takes to hairy men getting downright passionate with their naked selves. But after the veneer of gay is peeled away, dag—nice flick.

There was concern at first, as the subtitles started blinking by at breakneck speeds. Concentrating on text when there’s so much beautiful stuff on the screen is hard.

Well rounded characters (not a pun) pulled the movie along, unfolding issues that got progressively heavier.

Lots to chew on (also not a pun.) My entertainment dollar, well spent—I’d like to see more movies made like this. And when they do make them, it’d be nice if I could actually go to a theater in Cincinnati to see them.

Cincinnati Pride Parade

The day, yesterday

Chris: We’re pushed for time, can you sum it up in a word?
Spartacus Mills: No.
Chris: A sound?
Spartacus: Woouueerrrr.
Chris: Spartacus, thank you.

Pride begins

WOOF!

Pride begins in Cincinnati with Drag Races. I’ve never gone before so I didn’t know what to expect. I stepped outside right before meeting up with Mark and realized I wore the wrong shirt. It was a hairdryer outside. My flopsweat created blotches resembling Australia and surrounding islands.

Anywho, the drag races sucked. Seems that everyone was at the bars though, so that was the upshot—with mini-pitchers of Long Islands and cheap beer.

Ran into Bob, Derek and lots of other friendly familiar faces too wise to keep a livejournal.

Totally a good time.

Photos More photos that make Cincinnati look mighty handsome

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