If you’re a regular reader of MadeMark.net, you know one of my favorite travel spots is the fabulous Rainbow Mountain in the Poconos. Frank and I are headed there for another long weekend at the end of July. (See one of my videos on it here, and a posting here.) Long time owner Angelo greeted us each time and gave us the key to room 102 – a special request from me because it has a painting above the bed that my mother had in her piano teaching room (a woman in a red dress sitting at a black grand piano). I discovered last week when I was following up on our plans that there are new owners. I don’t know if I’ve met Rich and Ray there, but they’ve bought the place and have been going there since 1985. I’m looking forward to saying hello in late July.]]>

By now you’ve probably seen the Google commercial for its Chrome browser that features the “Its Gets Better Project,” started by Dan Savage and his partner Terry to combat bullying. I was an early contributor, and since then it’s become quite a phenomenon. Among those featured in the Google ad are two men from a group of Boston LGBT seniors. From Bay Windows/Golden Rainbow Times: Google launched a ground-breaking ad about gay suicides on primetime television during FOX TV’s “Glee” last month. The commercial for Google Chrome highlights the social movement that grew out of Dan Savage’s “It Gets Better” video on YouTube. The ninety-second spot beautifully captures the surge of emotions that came with the wave of suicides by gay youth last fall. Building in intensity, the commercial highlights how Savage’s video inspired thousands of people all over the world to put out their messages to gay youth urging them to hold on because “it gets better.” Since the “It Gets Better” project launched countless celebrities, athletes, politicians and artists added their own video messages including President Obama, Hilary Clinton, Lady Gaga and cast members from “Jersey Shore.” Bob Linscott, Assistant Director of The LGBT Aging Project in Boston was touched by this movement but feared that there was an absence of gay elders in the videos. “The one generation that can truly attest that it does get better wasn’t represented,” Linscott said, “Gay elders faced seemingly insurmountable discrimination and harassment decades ago and thankfully survived. Those stories needed to be included in this project too.” So Linscott took the matter into his own hands and shot and edited his own video “It Gets Better: Wisdom From Our Gay Elders,” which he added to the thousands of videos uploaded on YouTube. The video features poignant and funny stories from a number of Boston area LGBT seniors, two of whom speak about times they attempted suicide. In March the LGBT Aging Project was contacted by an agency working with Google on the “It Gets Better” commercial. They had seen Linscott’s video and wanted to use it in for the project. Linscott and Lisa Krinksy, LGBT Aging Project’s Director had to sign a non-disclosure agreement and were not able to let anyone know about the commercial until it aired on FOX TV. The commercial will now run at various times on multiple networks and it can be viewed online.
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Note the new name for my blog here at lgbtSr – Mark’s Cafe Moi. It’s got just a little more pizzazz than ‘Mark’s Blog.’ We returned Monday from our third cruise. Or maybe I should say my third cruise. Frank has been on many more. Cruising for me was like the thought of visiting Mexico – I wouldn’t have done it had I not done it! I lived in LA for 12 years and had no interest in going to Mexico, but many years later when I was working at this job in Manhattan I went to Mexico City for a conference and absolutely loved it. Likewise with cruising, it’s not something I would have ever done when I was single, but Frank introduced me to it and it’s become one of my favorite ways to vacation. I noticed yesterday, after two days back, that it still felt as if the ground beneath me was swaying. I hadn’t noticed it on the ship – it’s a constant rocking that becomes an under-the-surface sensation. It wasn’t until I was at my desk late Monday that I noticed that sense of rocking back and forth, as if my blood had become used to that slow steady sloshing. It’s going away now, but it was very pleasant while it lasted. I love being in the middle of the ocean. A water love all my life (though I’m not into swimming pools, I just love vast expanses of water, rivers and lakes), there is something deeply mystical about standing on a cabin balcony and seeing that you are surrounded by such an endless expanse of ocean that were you to slide beneath it, ship and all, you would be nothing more than a drop falling into a sea. You would vanish, just like that, and the ocean would roll over you as if you had never been there.

Neither one of us was willing to pay exorbitant roaming charges, so the phones, Blackberries, Droids were kept off the entire trip. Quite a revelation after a couple days of not checking email or updating any statuses. I paid for a block of wifi minutes so I could do a little blog posting, but it was more trouble that it was worth so that was kept to a minimum. I think the next time I might even leave my camera home and just experience the entire trip without disappearing into a camera lens. And you can meet some very wonderful people. Some dull ones, too, some aloof ones, such as the young couple sitting next to us for the 6 pm dinner setting. As luck had it, we were each at a table for two, not all at a table for four, so their indifference to us every night was something we could dismiss. Contrasted to the number of lovely people we met at lunch when we had shared seating in another dining room. Straight couples, one with a young teenage son, who enjoyed our company as much as we enjoyed theirs. And one gay couple we met at the LGBT gathering. There were many more gay people on the ship, but I can’t say they were friendly because we didn’t speak. I love cruising. I want to do one a year now, and take the next trip somewhere other than a Caribbean island. Nova Scotia sounds nice . . .

You can see all of my personal blogging at MadeMark.net.]]>

This is a short one and I hope it won’t prove bittersweet. I’ve kept my expectations very, very low in the marriage fight in New York. I’ve watched for over a decade as marriage equality proponents have struggled and protested and worked for the day we would achieve this, only to see it thwarted time and again. We didn’t have the votes in the Senate, plain and simple, and I wasn’t convinced we did this time. Then I see that we’ve reached this amazing threshold: one vote short. The usual professional bigots are howling ever louder – Archbishop Dolan, the storefront preacher Ruben Diaz, the highly paid thugs from NOM – as we come so very close to something so very simple – the right of Frank and I to go downtown and get married. No big deal, as everyone will discover when it happens. A big deal to the couples who’ve been kept from it, certainly, but in the scheme of things, something everyone will look back on ten years from now and wonder what all that conflict, anger and prejudice was about.

You can see all of my personal blogging at MadeMark.net]]>

By Mark McNease Here’s a video slideshow of the entire cruise (minus Grand Turk, which I’m sure is a fine place to visit if you get outside the Cruise Center).]]>

By Mark McNease Note: Apologies to the fine people of Grand Turk. Frank and I only spent 90 minutes off ship there, in the Cruise Center where they have shops, the beach front and a pool. I can’t do the place justice considering how little we did there so I’ll just say thanks for the memories (and the photos I accidentally “delete all”-ed).

I was most excited about visiting Puerto Rico on this cruise and I wasn’t disappointed. Maybe it’s because there’s such a large Puerto Rican population in New York City. Maybe it’s because it’s a U.S. protectorate – Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens, even though they’re not a state. And maybe it’s because I’ve just been aware of Puerto Rico for so long, at least since I moved to New York eighteen years ago. It’s one of those places I wanted to visit if I ever got the chance, and this was my chance. We took a walking tour of Old San Juan. The entire time was spent on San Juan, which, like Manhattan, is an island. San Juan is the oldest city in the United States, and the second oldest (after Santo Domingo) in all of the Americas. Trade winds blew ships here from Europe, coupled with ocean currents. It was also the first island with water, shelter and supplies that sailing ships came to from Europe via Afica’s west coast, which is why Spain fortified Puerto Rico in the first place. Built over 10 generations (250 years), the complex system of fortifications was necessary to protect what the Europeans knew was great wealth. Gold, silver, gems, spices, furs. The New World represented riches beyond the imagination. It was also already inhabited, which is a long sad story for another day. Needless to say the Europeans won. Over half our walking tour was spent at El Morro fort, one of the two massive forts on the island. Construction on the fort began in 1539. Our tour guide, a lovely woman who was patient with this cruise crowd, gave us a detailed history lesson as we walked around and through this massive, hurricane-proof structure. The views were breathtaking, and for someone who loves history, from the ancient to the Civil War, this was a real treat. We next walked through the streets of Old San Juan. We saw where Ponce de Leon was buried one of three times. We saw the beautiful cobbled streets made from bricks that had been used as ballast on the sailing ships that came here. We also saw a lot of cats. They’re protected here. Not exactly sacred, but considered guardians of the island, and their population has exploded the last few years. The tour ended and Frank and I did some shopping, and finally headed back to a tapas restaurant we’d seen earlier on the tour. It was fabulous, and the waitress, who’s lived here for eight years, was from upper Manhattan! A really nice woman who gave us a quick history of the restaurant, which used to be the mayor’s office and a prison. I wondered at the tunnel structure we were eating in. She told us that in the basement was a tunnel that ran all the way to El Morro. The food was great, the people fabulous, the tour a delight (minus the serious sunburn I have on my face today). I know we could only see a small slice of Puerto Rico, but it left me wanting more.]]>

By Mark McNease Update: I was told by one of the crew members who came to Sunday’s GLBT meet-up, a friend of Dorothy himself, that they changed the name because it caused too much confusion with clueless passengers. Perhaps they had a friend named Dorothy, or they had small children and thought people would be dressed like characters from the Wizard of Oz. They would show up and be horrified to see a flock of homosexuals instead. Fair enough. But what will we sacrifice next for them? The rainbow? This photo is of today’s ship schedule. It’s our second full day at sea – we arrive at Grand Turk tomorrow, which I’m told was devastated by a hurricane a few years ago and doesn’t have a lot going on. I found this out from one of the men who showed up for the “GLBT” social hour listed in the calendar. Now, I’ve been on board with the acronyms for a long time. This site’s name is an acronym. But damnit, when I saw they’d stopped listing these cruise get-togethers as “Friends of Dorothy” I knew something truly priceless had passed from the earth. I don’t think this travesty came about because younger people don’t remember Judy Garland or where the phrase “Friends of Dorothy” came from. Hell, the average age on a cruise that isn’t designed for families with kids has got to be 60. As affordable as cruising is, by the time you actually do things to enjoy yourself, this ain’t a staycation. And a lot of people fly to get here, just like we’ll fly to Florida if the next one we take leaves from there, so it’s not chump change. Cruises like this are suited to people who can afford them, and we tend to be older. So no, the name wasn’t changed because nobody’s old enough to remember the reference. It was probably so no one would feel excluded. Never mind that only gay men show up at these things. The other possibility is that younger gay men have no sense of humor. Speaking of which, the first day, yesterday, they had us meeting in a wine bar populated by straight people. No, no, no. You do these things in one of the large bars where we can easily lay claim to a section with chairs and we’re obvious. As much as being gay is natural, it’s not a birthmark, like the star-bellied Sneetches, and when you’re looking around wanting to be sure you’re in the right place, the best gaydar in the world doesn’t make it easy to walk to up two men and say, “Are you here for the GBLT meet-up?” One of the guys told me he complained the last cruise about this and they moved it to a more appropriate bar, which, I notice, it’s at in today’s schedule. On to the calendar: You can do lots and lots of things on a cruise. Just some of today’s activities: fabulous abs in the gym; knitters and knatters get-together; Bill W meeting (of course); doubles ping-pong; scholarship at sea lectures; photography at sea class; a movie (Toy Story); classical music; a poker tournament; an introduction to acupuncture; fruit and vegetable carving, and $1000 bingo. And that’s just before lunch! A schedule is put out each evening for the next day’s activities. Frank and I are gamblers so we’re doing the bingo, and probably meeting with the Friends of Dor . . . I mean GLBT group this afternoon to see if it’s better in the upstairs bar. Tomorrow we’ll go to Grand Turk and at least get some sun and sand. Next up with the blogging . . . Puerto Rico! I hope it’s all I’ve imagined it to be, since I keep saying it’s what I’m looking most forward to in the island hopping. I’ll let you know. For now, signing off – the Tin Man.]]>

By Mark McNease

Sunday morning and we’re sailing through the Atlantic on our way to Grand Turk. Cruising out of Brooklyn is the best, we just loaded the luggage into a town car and rode to the ship. We came a little bit after the rush so getting on board was a breeze, and in less than an hour from when we left the apartment we were taking a look around the ship. The Caribbean Princess reminds me a lot of the Holland America ship we took two and a half years ago with Frank’s dad and his friend Moni. The layout is almost identical, unless I’m mis-remembering it, and the decor looks like very much the same. The dining room was different, though. It seems smaller, and the tables are round. When we last cruised it was at a table for eight, with our four table mates turning out to be lovely people from California. Two straight couples, one with a lesbian daughter who’d gotten married during the brief window when it was legal in California. Barack Obama was elected while we were on the cruise, and Prop 8 passed. Imagine all that while you’re taking a cruise! We did a quick tour of the gym and the spa, where Frank signed us up for some spa treats. The guy who led the muster drill was a delightfully and obviously gay man from Britain. The cruise, as usual, has a wide variety of people on it, and, come to think of it, almost no children. Not that I mind children . . . I promised myself I’d take advantage of all the activities the ship offers this time, instead of spending my nights in the casino. I want to take a gaming class today so I can learn to do something in Atlantic City besides play penny slot machines. The LGBT group (listed in the day’s program as “GLBT” – go figure) meets at 4 pm. Plus the gym after breakfast, working on my short story re-write, and reading, reading, reading. It’s a cruise! We don’t pull into Grand Turk until Tuesday, so I have nothing to do until then except hurry up and relax, which is really the point.]]>

I’m a big fan of Steve Hayes. He’ll be performing along with Bradford Scobie (you can see Bradford in the latest ‘Tired Old Queen at the Movies’ clip) at the Connecticut Repertory Theater, June 16 – 26. For tickets: 860-486-4226.]]>

It’s hard to keep up with Steve Hayes. He’s posted another of his terrific ‘Tired Old Queen at the Movies’ reviews, this time of ‘Dinner at Eight.’]]>

I’ve been writing for many, many years. See my bio on the sidebar if you’re interested. Short stories from the time I was, oh, ten or so. Plays, plays, and more plays. Articles, book reviews, TV scripts, and full circle back to short stories (with a couple unpublished novels along the way, though eBook publishing may yet see one of them in the marketplace of so-so ideas). My keyboard and writing space have always been my instruments, much like a musician has her instrument. It’s one thing to sit at a table somewhere with a laptop, and quite another to sit at that one magic place where it all happens. Comforting, familiar, settled into and melded to the contours of my body and my mind. It needs to be just right. Since I moved in with Frank four years ago I’ve been using a small desk with shelves on each side that forced me to keep my knees almost together in order to sit there. The big spacious desk I had in Astoria got left behind – there was no room for it. I have one at the house that works very well, but this desk in our Manhattan apartment, while having sentimental value for me (it’s going in our attic room at the house now), sucked as a work space. I noticed it especially when I decided to really (really, honestly) get back to my short stories. That whole Kindle eBook thing has me intrigued. I noticed that when I’m writing fiction I need to be expansive, and my body wanted to open up along with my mind. But I couldn’t! The desk was too confining. I finally had to do something about it and, there as if by magic at Housing Works a block from the apartment, was a “small farm table” that is terrific as a desk. No drawers, but just enough bigger and with endless leg room. It’s all set up and I’m ready to go. Desks matter. Keyboards matter. Routine matters. Blank pages matter. All in the name of making something from nothing and marveling at what comes out.]]>