Adventures in Philly.

Jim with Festival volunteers Will and Paul.

My favorite moment doing "The Big Voice" opening the Philadelphia Gay & Lesbian Theatre Festival happened on the second night. The old Plays and Players Theatre, a hundred or more years old, looked like a grand faded Broadway house. Rising on each side were murals, almost black with age. The stage was raised high. It was wide and roomy with fly space and wings. It was a hot, humid night, so the ancient air conditioning was straining to keep us at least comfortable.

If you know Big Voice, it begins with thunder and lighting and rain exploding out of the speakers in the dark. Then the Big Voice says, "In the beginning..." etc. As we start doing our lines and crossing over to sing "Why?" I hear what I think is a rumble, like someone is dragging something heavy just outside the doors and stomping their feet.

It kept going in and out as Jim stepped up to say, "I knew I was destined to be the first Brooklyn born Pope!"

Suddenly, a CRACK of thunder seemed to hit the building and rain began pounding on the roof.

Never one to pass up a chance to make a joke, he looked up to the sky and said something like, "Oh! I see you agree!"

It was a welcome relief to feel so comfortable in our roles because the first night was a total nightmare. I guess it had just been too long since we did Big Voice -- and it's totally embarrassing to admit to this, but I had the second most nerve-wracking experience of my life on Friday night.

Our stage manager Stefan.

I was singing "Where Is God" and when I got to the second verse, I totally lost it. I had no idea what those words were. I kept repeating the first phrase of the last verse, knowing I couldn't go there because it would ruin the whole song. Instead, I just kind of ducked my head and kept playing the piano until I fully grasped that the words were not going to come.

Accepting my fate, I looked over at Jim, smiled, and pointed to him.

Luckily, he was on top of it, smoothly going right into his monologue about Merman and the hospital visit ("The look on their faces when I walked in with a Candy Striper that looked like Ethel Merman!") which then leads to the song reprise.

I cannot tell you how hot your skin can get on stage, especially on an already warm night. I know I must have turned 10 shades of red.

We had a similar moment in act two, right at the end, when I forgot to say a line and then Jim just took it right into the end. Which was fine except I also forgot the words to the finale.

And here's the worst thing ever:

I'm sitting there vamping on the reprise of "Why?" when I see Jim, who's standing down stage of me, turn back to me mouthing some words.

I have no idea why he's mouthing words to me. I supposed, finally that it meant I was supposed to say something. Or maybe my fly was open.

I looked at him and said, "What?"

He said, "I mmm..mm ..thel Merman."

"What?"

He came closer and leaned over, "I MARRIED ETHEL MERMAN!!"

Oh! That's the first line of the song. I'm supposed to sing!! So I sang that line, Jim sang his but I think he stumbed on it, followed by me not having a clue what I was supposed to sing next.

Finally, in total triumph, I just started proudly singing, "Da da da da da..." Jim joined in and we sang through to the end, "So goodbye!"

The audience went crazy, nobody could tell a thing. It was great.

Founder/Directors Bill Esher and Matthew Cloran.

______________________________________________

DEAN AND JIM

For the last year or so, I've been corresponding with a very sweet guy named Dean is planning a local production of "The Big Voice" in Allentown, PA. It's in a theatre company they've created out of MCC of Lehigh Valley.

When Dean (who's playing Steve) saw we'd be in Philly, he wrote and said he'd love to bring his partner, Rob and his castmate, Jim (who's playing Jim) and his partner whose name I think is Steve. (But after seeing the show, Dean decided to play Jim and give Jim the role of Steve. Are you keeping up with this?)

They were so lovely. Dean, a singer/dancer, has had a long history of going through exgay programs, becoming a spokesperson, realizing he wasn't really changing (and neither was anyone else in the programs), so he came out. But then, like many who grow up hating themselves for being gay, he fell into total self-destruction until he found himself on his back in the hospital, the funeral home literally on the phone -- when he suddenly opened his eyes and realized that he had a life left to live.

(Sound familiar?)

He found a life partner, moved to Pennsylvania, created a nice home together, found a church and has now created a theatre company.

We all met and went out for Chinese. I totally fell in love with these guys. And it's cool that they'll be the first to independently cast and produce The Big Voice. I loved meeting them. Hopefully, I'll get to see them on stage! Their production is planned for November.

Review: Bash'd a gay rap opera.

photo by david morgan

As part of our weekend back east, we were invited to the first prevue of a show opening in New York soon. It's a gay-themed rap opera imported from Canada featuring the two guys who wrote it. I wondered if Jim and I were young, if this is what we'd be writing.

I posted this review to All That Chat.

First of all, I am too old to really "get" rap music. It's not from my generation being that I'm 54, so I went to the first prevue of "Bash'd" prepared to resist it with all my being, though it won the 2008 GLAAD Media Award.

My worst fears were realized during the first five minutes because they were trying to get the audience to join in on some hand gesture -- I hate audience participation theatre -- and the fact that I was catching only about every fourth word.

But then, once the two engaging performer/writers settled in, the little prologue, I began to realize, was their way of getting us used to the delivery. They even promised us they were going to speak and sing as clearly as possible -- and to just give it a chance.

And, magically, after a few minutes, the cobwebs lifted from my old ears as the story telling began and I began understanding it more and more.

The plot is something we've seen in many gay musicals. Boy realizes he's gay. Family hates it. Boy runs to big city, meets another boy, they fall in love, face a tragedy and then...

Well, it's a bit Shakespearean in its plotline. I won't give it away, but the website does give away the fact that a gay bashing occurs. As a bit of agitprop, the piece works really well for several reasons.

First of all, it's very clever. I found myself laughing frequently and, during the emotional moments, found myself drawn in and even moved as I fell in love with the lovers. When tragedy happens, I became enraged at the injustice and felt, deeply, the anger they expressed -- something this form of music does very well.

Secondly, the piece also does itself a favor by being a one act that's only a hour long. It arrives quickly, tells the story quickly and then finishes on a dramatic note that also warns of the danger of overreacting to homophobic violence.

Jimmy even said he enjoyed the piece, though, like me, he is resistant to hip hop. I don't think either of us would have enjoyed a second act. It was a smart choice to give us a taste, tell us a compelling story told by these two very talented Canadians, and then let us go home to think about what we saw.

I have a feeling that young people will really enjoy it even more. I was happily surprised to find myself entertained and engaged. So, even for those who really hate rap and hip hop, but who like good storytelling and well performed theatre, I can recommend this. Just give it five minutes.

The only negative note is that, like much hip hop, it tends to find one rhythm/tempo and stay there. But the words were clear, clever and bawdy. I followed the story easily.

And I can't say enough about how well performed it was.

Zipper Factory Theater
336 W. 37th Street
(between 8th & 9th Avenues)

Mon, Thurs & Sat at 8:00pm, Fri at
7:30pm & 10:00pm

Review of Big Voice: Falstaff & Prince Hal

It's fun to see how different critics and observers view The Big Voice. In Dallas we were "Zero Mostel in love with Anthony Perkins." In Philadelphia, as the opening to the Philadelphia Gay & Lesbian Theatre Festival, a particularly literate reviewer, Henrik Eger, saw us in Shakespearean termshttp://www.henrikeger.com/Theatre-Arts.php#TheatreArchive:

Serious, skinny Schalchlin looks like the unlikely Prince Hal to match big Brochu, who looks and acts like a campy Falstaff. Both bring out a humanity in most unexpected ways.
Just as the sixteen-year-old Hal was almost killed by an arrow which became lodged in his face, he survived through the benefit of the best possible care, though his face was permanently marked by deep scars, proof of his valor in battle, so Schalchlin was nurtured back to life from the devastating ravages of AIDS by his life-mate Brochu. Their life, dramatically different as they are—one a young, introverted Baptist from Arkansas versus the overweight, boisterous Brooklyn boy who idolizes Ethel Merman and nurtures a hidden desire to become a priest, if not the Pope—comes together in a production that entertains as the best of Broadway shows but also takes us to the abyss of a Shakespearean tragedy. The audience at the old Plays and Players Theatre both fought tears at times but, even more often, roared with laughter

Indeed, the house was ROCKING both nights in spite of the fact that, at the first performance, we were both spitting out wrong dialogue and forgetting lyrics here and there. Luckily, it didn't matter. We just plowed on through and kicked ass. I'll have some pictures later on. But what a weekend.

This Weekend in Philly!

Tonight we open the Philadelphia Gay & Lesbian Theatre Festive! Catch us tonight and tomorrow doing The Big Voice!

The Hemo2Homo Connection Movie Review: Sex and The City

The Hemo2Homo Connection Movie Review
Homo: I'm a bad gay. A horrible homo. I don't like shoes or shopping. I don't like gossip and I don't like hearing people talk about their feelings. And now that I've suffered through 2 1/2 hours of it, where can I go to get my masculinity back?

Hemo: I'm a bad straight- I love to gossip, and watched most of this HBO series with Gwenn and two of our best (good gay) friends. So of course I was there for the movie, it was somewhat of an event in our household.

I know, I'm a bad straight.

Homo: I wouldn't have even gone to see this thing if not for you. And you said you liked it?

Hemo: Yes, there was humor, and remember, I'd just had the Spielberg/Lucas shitbomb of Indiana dropped on me. Maybe I just got Sex more, since I knew the characters from the TV show.

Homo: You don't understand. I watched the series. I'm not THAT bad of a homo.

Hemo: My bad, Homo.

Homo: No probleemo, Hemo. But a bad movie is a bad movie. Christ. Purses. Labels. Shoes. Shopping. More shopping. More labels. More shoes. What the hell is it with women and shoes? Those horrors cost $500?? And $500 for a damn purse??

Hemo: You have to remember: most people aren't dumping all of their money into expensive HIV medications like we are.

Homo: Right. Which is why I'm kicking myself for dumping money into Indiana and Sex...

Hemo: Wait, what about that next-door neighbor of Samantha's? They showed that dude's ass like 50 times!

Homo: Okay, you got me. Being an Internet Icon, I'd heard all about Mr. Next Door Neighbor before stepping foot into the theatre. He's the real reason I went to see it, not because you wanted me to.

Hemo: They showed that dude's ass like 50 times. And I got nothing! I was forced to go online and look for photos of Kristen Davis giving some guy a....

Homo: Hold your horses, Hemo!

Hemo: And I'm not even sure it was her.

Homo: The straight women and gay men this movie was made for don't care about you and your needs, thinblood. This is about us. But they did show Samantha in that sushi scene. That was kind, you know, um, fleshy?

Hemo: Kim Cattrall to the rescue again!

Kim Cattrall, modelling the latest in Gigantic Condom Headwear

That woman deserves to make five times what Sarah Jessica gets. She should have held out for more money.

Homo: There, you got Samantha. The next-door neighbor, as hot as he was, was still a straight dude. Except for the two hot guys who kissed in the first scene, what is up with the homofaguals in this series? Why is it that the only two gay men in the cast have the worst clothing and are the most repulsive looking characters on the screen?

Hemo: At least the movie had gay guys in it. Hemophiliacs have been on the cutting edge of fashion for years, and how are we rewarded? By not having one thinblood in the movie. C'mon!

The last time a hemo figured into a movie plot was the vampire film, The Thirst. The vampires fed on the thinblood, then some dude starting punching them and they all bled to death.

Homo: Wait. Is that a real movie? The vampires drank the blood of hemophiliacs and then bled to death from cuts? Genius.

Hemo: It was one thinblooded girl, but yes, it's real. Netflix it. (Careful, there are two vampire movies called "The Thirst", the one with the hemophiliac character in it also stars Jeremy Sisto.)

So, let's cut to the chase: how do you rate Sex & The City?

Homo: Well, I'll tell you the truth. It wasn't entirely my cup of tea, and I thought the plot had holes big enough to hold Sarah Jessica Parker's wardrobe, but I have to admit it was fun seeing the four girls together again. They're like comic book heroes when they walk together. So, I'll give it a very mild One Vein Up But Only For People Who Like This Kind Of Movie.

Hemo: I'm with you- the characters are interesting enough, though someone with clotting deficiencies would have added a nice dynamic. Still, I give the movie One-and-a-Half Veins Up.

Homo: I do: I also give one Special Vein Up for the guy next door.

Hemo: Gee, let me guess where that vein is located.

The Hemo2Homo Connection are Shawn Decker and Steve Schalchlin.

The Hemo2Homo Connection's creators met online in 1996, and posted their first movie review in 1998. Both have been living with HIV for over twenty years, and have annoyed their friends and loved ones for longer than that. Steve Schalchlin resides in Los Angeles, CA. He is an award-winning musician, singer and songwriter. Shawn Decker lives in Charlottesville, VA. He is an HIV/AIDS educator and the author of My Pet Virus.

The Last International Carnival of Pozitivities.

Sadly, the last International Circus of Pozitivities has been posted here. For two years, this floating "circus" of focused links to interesting blog entries and stories about HIV positive people around the world, has been a unique gift of connectedness. I've hosted the ICP on my site once, I believe.

Ron Hudson is the man who has been at the center of it all. He is facing some health and other personal issues that have taken his time. Hopefully, he'll come through strongly and come back to us.

Here is what he wrote on the ICP blog:

Dear Friends of the ICP,

It is with relief and sadness that I have decided to allow the International Carnival of Pozitivities to come to an end with our next and final edition in June of 2008. I have made many wonderful friends in the past two years and have been fortunate to learn the life-stories of some amazing people and their efforts to end the stigma of HIV/AIDS around the world. I am truly grateful to the contributors and hosts who have blessed my life with their kindness and encouragement. I hope that you will continue to blog about HIV/AIDS and keep alive the spirit of the ICP. I am very proud of our efforts and the outcome that you see on this site today. I will leave the ICP homepage available for people to access in the future, but there will be no further editions after June, 2008.

As always, I wish you the peace that I wish for myself.

Ron Hudson

Thank YOU, Ron. My readers and I also wish you peace and good health. Thank you for your work.

Same-Sex Couples Offer Insight Into Gender and Marriage - NYTimes.com

Article from the NY Times about how gay couples compare to straight couples in terms of their relationships.

June 10, 2008

Gay Unions Shed Light on Gender in Marriage

By TARA PARKER-POPE

For insights into healthy marriages, social scientists are looking in an unexpected place.

A growing body of evidence shows that same-sex couples have a great deal to teach everyone else about marriage and relationships. Most studies show surprisingly few differences between committed gay couples and committed straight couples, but the differences that do emerge have shed light on the kinds of conflicts that can endanger heterosexual relationships.

(snip)

In heterosexual couples, women did far more of the housework; men were more likely to have the financial responsibility; and men were more likely to initiate sex, while women were more likely to refuse it or to start a conversation about problems in the relationship. With same-sex couples, of course, none of these dichotomies were possible, and the partners tended to share the burdens far more equally.

Yes. Here's how we share the housework.

"We outta clean the bathroom."

"Yeah."

A week later:

"We outta clean the bathroom."

"Yeah."

...when same-sex couples argued, they tended to fight more fairly than heterosexual couples, making fewer verbal attacks and more of an effort to defuse the confrontation.

...

“When they got into these really negative interactions, gay and lesbian couples were able to do things like use humor and affection that enabled them to step back from the ledge and continue to talk about the problem instead of just exploding,” said Robert W. Levenson, a professor of psychology at the University of California, Berkeley.

Jim and I almost never fight. I fact, I can't remember the last time we even had a fight. But, one time, we were really going at it when he suddenly thought of a funny punchline. So, we paused for the punchline, had a great laugh and then returned to the fight. But by then, all the air had blown out of the confrontation and we settled it instantly.

One of the most common stereotypes in heterosexual marriages is the “demand-withdraw” interaction, in which the woman tends to be unhappy and to make demands for change, while the man reacts by withdrawing from the conflict. But some surprising new research shows that same-sex couples also exhibit the pattern, contradicting the notion that the behavior is rooted in gender...

When people ask us the secret to our long relationship, it's the fact that we just ignore each other. But we're happiest ignoring each other together.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Who Still Dies Of AIDS?

An insightful article from New York Magazine. about the current condition of AIDS and the fact that people are still dying from it.

Hemo2Homo: Indiana Jones & The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

The Hemo2Homo Connection Movie Review
<

Homo: This lame-ass movie was best summed up by my partner, Jim Brochu, who called it "Mr. Chips & The Temple of Doom."

Hemo: Spielberg scored Erik Estrada? I think I missed that scene.

Homo: If you're gonna be a movie reviewer, you should pay more attention to the film, and really should try to see a movie made before you were born.

One with, like, dialogue and stuff.

Hemo: After seeing this clunker, I may take your advice. And I'm still trying to figure out why Harrison Ford looked older to me ten years ago... does that mean I'm, getting old?

Homo: Yes, you're getting old. Uh oh. It sounds like we have a sad meeting of the minds. I wasn't surprised by anything is in this movie.

Hemo: Really? You are so jaded that you weren't shocked by the re-emergence of Marc Almond of Soft Cell, riding in as Indiana Jones's son?

Homo: That wasn't Marc Almond of Soft Cell, thinblood.

Hemo: Oh. No Erik Estrada, no Marc Almond. Well, at least I can hang my Indy hat on Helen Marnie of Ladytron's star turn as the Commie S&M chick.

Homo: Helen who of what? And no, that wasn't her, either. That was the Academy Award-winning actress, Cate Blanchett! And they are called credits, koolaid-blood.

Those letters that scroll upward at the end of the movie.

Hemo: Those credit things are always my cue to start gathering up leftover candy in the aisles. I like action, but the lame-ass sword duel atop two jeeps riding through a jungle seem improbable at best.

Homo: Just one of many pointless action sequences. And CGI ants aren't scary anymore. Waiting for your viral load test results. Now that's scary!

Hemo: I hate CGI- it ruined I Am Legend. They should never do CGI monsters so long as Gary Busey is still breathing.

Homo: Agreed. In previous Indy movies, Spielberg would do something in the foreground to keep us from falling asleep during this crap, like the sequence around the dining table where they're eating giant bugs.

Hemo: Oh, yeah. That was such a cool scene. In this one, the bugs ate the people.

Homo: Actually, I think the script ate the people. And what was up with Blanchett's random Russian accent, which veered wildly across the continents and back again? And she wants a skull that will give her the ultimate powers of the universe?

Hemo: Remember, it's a skull made of crystals. And crystals are a girl's best friend.

Homo: Those are diamonds, numbnuts. As for the whole premise of Indiana Jones, I think they ccould have saved a lot of money and just shot the whole thing in one place: a Pier 1 Imports store. That would have explained all of the old married couple banter between Indy and his once-girlfriend.

Hemo: Maybe Spielberg has long-since shot his money wads? Maybe he needs, for lack of a better metaphor, a Hollywood-esque sperm-washing procedure?

Homo: It's not a bad idea. Hemo, in all seriousness, answer me this: Was there ever a moment in that theatre when you didn't know what was going to happen next?

Hemo: Well, I arrived 10 minutes late. That's why I missed Erik Estrada's scene.

Homo: I give up.

Hemo:...And at the Carmike there are two pathways, and one was so dark I couldn't even see what was blocking the path. I could hear the movie, but trying to figure out how to get the seats was pretty intriguing.

Homo: No! I meant a moment in the movie! But your story sounds more intriguing than the film itself... so, did you go to the other walkway? Or forge ahead into the darkness, where one wrong bump could send you to your untimely, bleeding doom?

Hemo: I went to the other one. Only to bump into a guy in a wheelchair who was blocking that path.

Homo: Ew, ew! Please tell me you tipped him! This is the best confrontation since Indy shot that dude with the sword in Raiders, or the Cripple Fight episode on South Park.

Hemo: No, I just apologized and stepped around him. Then took my seat. There was no one with a flashlight to help a thinblood out.

Homo: Your story had a lame ending, but was still better than the movie you so bravely pressed onward to see. Did you see National Treasure? Because there's a moment in Indy that I now call the "National Treasure Idiot Moment."

Our heroes go down into the treasure room. The girl sees a wooden rack filled with scrolls. She leans down and, without blinking, she announces, "Look! The lost scrolls from the Library of Alexandra!"

Hemo:That sounds awful.

Homo: "Crystal Skull" had one of those moments. I f you're going to steal from the movie that stole from you, at least steal the good parts.

Hemo: Yeah. It would be like two guys with AIDS stealing our movie-review bit, but only using your parts.

Homo: Hey, , watch it: I'm the smart one here, Mr. Quips. And don't forget who has the clotting factor, kid.

Hemo: You're starting to sound like Indiana Jones.

Homo: I'm not that old. I was really afraid you'd buy into the hype on this one. There may be hope for you yet, thinblood.

Hemo: Hey, thanks! So what's your final grade on Professor Jones?

Homo: I give Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull two bloodless veins down. You?

Hemo: Not enough "snapper" in Indiana's "whipper" this go around. I give it a Highly Detectable Viral Load of Crap rating.

Homo: Oh boy. See? This is why I can never die. You'd kill this review faster than this script killed off Indiana Jones.

The Hemo2Homo Connection are Shawn Decker and Steve Schalchlin.

The Hemo2Homo Connection's creators met online in 1996, and posted their first movie review in 1998. Both have been living with HIV for over twenty years, and have annoyed their friends and loved ones for longer than that. Steve Schalchlin resides in Los Angeles, CA. He is an award-winning musician, singer and songwriter. Shawn Decker lives in Charlottesville, VA. He is an HIV/AIDS educator and the author of My Pet Virus.

Photos from AIDS LifeCycle Closing Ceremonies.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to the closing ceremonies of the AIDS LifeCycle. They raised, I think, 11.6 million dollars for AIDS healthcare by biking all the way from San Francisco to Los Angeles. The age range of the riders was 18-81. I took pictures!

Eugene Robinson on Nominee Obama

Putting aside, reader, whether you are liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican, or even if you supported Hillary Clinton, the nomination of Barack Obama is an event that has stunned me and moved me beyond anything I can describe. It's historic in ways that make me so proud to live right now.

I can never claim to know what it feels like to be Black in this country, but I came face to face with racism when our family moved to the piney woods of east Texas when I was in the 10th grade.

I had actually grown up in Southern California when my family moved out West when I was five. Anaheim, in the mid-60s, was White. I don't recall that we ever even discussed race in America. Except once. It was in the bedroom I shared with my brother. Something must have happened to precipitate his action, but my dad came in and I remember he denounced racism in no uncertain terms. It was a moment that branded itself in my psyche.

So, when we moved to southeast Texas, a low income, rural, forgotten corner of backwoods America where integration had only recently been accomplished, I came face to face with my first real intimate friendships with African American persons and, frankly, I didn't think anything of it.

Not until the day I was called a nigger lover, anyway.

But things were already changing in the South. Even as the racism scared me -- and yes, I did see a KKK storefront a couple of town over -- it felt to me that the people of my generation were finally beginning to understand, identify and question their own bigotry -- even if in baby steps.

But it was real and it was pervasive and the word "nigger" was said a lot when it was just White people standing around talking. That's why the Barack Obama nomination has just astounded me. No matter whether he wins the election or not, or whether you support him or not, I think every American can take this moment in time and just celebrate that it's happened at all.

Link to Eugene Robinson's editorial.

What He Overcame

By Eugene Robinson
Friday, June 6, 2008; A19

There will be plenty of time to chart Barack Obama's attempt to navigate a course between the exigencies of the old politics and the promise of the new, between yesterday and tomorrow, youth and experience, black and white. For now, take a moment to consider the mind-bending improbability of what just happened.

A young, black, first-term senator -- a man whose father was from Kenya, whose mother was from Kansas and whose name sounds as if it might have come from the roster of Guantanamo detainees -- has won a marathon of primaries and caucuses to become the presumptive presidential nominee of the Democratic Party. To reach this point, he had to do more than outduel the party's most powerful and resourceful political machine. He also had to defy, and ultimately defeat, 389 years of history.

It was in 1619 that the first Africans were brought in chains to these shores, landing in Jamestown. That first shipment of "servants" did not include any of Obama's ancestors; it's impossible to say whether some distant progenitor of his wife, Michelle, might have been present at that moment of original sin. Ever since -- through the War of Independence, the abolitionist movement, the Civil War, Reconstruction, Jim Crow, the great migration to Northern cities and the civil rights struggle -- race has been one of the great themes running through our nation's history.

I'm old enough to remember when Americans with skin the color of mine and Obama's had to fight -- and die -- for the right to participate as equals in the life of the nation we helped build. Watching Obama give his speech Tuesday night marking the end of the primary season and the beginning of the general election campaign, I thought back to a time when brave men and women, both black and white, put their lives on the line to ensure that African Americans had the right to vote, let alone run for office -- a time when Democrats in my home state of South Carolina were Dixiecrats, and when the notion that the Democratic Party would someday nominate a black man for president was utterly unimaginable.

Tiresome, isn't it? All this recounting of unpleasant history, I mean. Wouldn't it be great if we could all just move on? Bear with me, though, because this is how we get to the point where, as Obama's young supporters like to chant, "race doesn't matter." No one will be happier than I when we reach that promised land, and we've come so far that at times we can see it, just over the next hill. But we aren't there yet.

This is a passage from an e-mail I received in April from an Obama volunteer in Pennsylvania: "We've been called 'N-lovers,' Obama's been called the 'Anti-Christ,' our signs have been burned in the streets during a parade, our volunteers have been harassed physically, or with racial slurs -- it's been unreal."

Yet the amazing thing isn't that there were instances of overt, old-style racism during this campaign, it's that there were so few. The amazing thing is that so many Americans have been willing to accept -- or, indeed, reject -- Obama based on his qualifications and his ideas, not on his race. I'll never forget visiting Iowa in December and witnessing all-white crowds file into high school gymnasiums to take the measure of a black man -- and, ultimately, decide that he was someone who expressed their hopes and dreams.

When historians and political scientists write books about this extraordinary campaign season, surely they will seek to assess what impact Obama's race had on his prospects. But they will also devote volumes to exploring how he put together a fundraising apparatus that generated undreamed-of amounts of cash, and how his organization drew so many new voters into the process, and how his young supporters made use of social-networking Web sites such as Facebook and MySpace, and how his delegate-counting team managed to consistently outthink and outhustle everyone else. It will be written that Obama's nomination victory owes as much to adroit management as it does to stirring inspiration.

Will Americans take the final step and elect Obama as president? Should they? Is this first-term senator up to the job?

We'll find out soon enough. At the moment, to tell the truth, I don't care. Whether Obama wins or loses, history has been made this year. Maybe there's more to come, maybe not; but already -- after 389 long years -- it's safe to say that this nation will never be the same.

eugenerobinson@washpost.com

The World is Mixing! (A little comedy)

Sunset on Mars

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My Ear Cleaning.

This is a slightly gross medical entry. So, read at your own peril.

I've been having a little problem with my right ear. It was clogging up at night or anytime I laid down on that side. And it popped all the time. My mom sent me a note saying that she was having an ear problem but it didn't quite sound like my problem.

My doctor had told me a couple of months ago that I have a lot of waxy build-up in my ears, so I've been using ear wax drops, and then flushing my ear gently with a big blue bulb filled with water called an ear syringe. But I couldn't tell if it was helping or not. And now, with this new blockage, I needed to do something.

So, I made a quick appointment, fearing the worst about my ears. I was treated by the nurse practitioner who told me the build-up was really bad and that they could do a cleaning. He put drops in my ear, covered them with cotton and then told me, "Now, we'll just let them cook for a moment."

After about 10 minutes, he led me down the hallway to a room where a tubed device was hooked up to the faucet. At the end of the tube, was a what looked like a clear water pistol.

He leaned me near the sink, pulled the cotton ball out of my ear and said, "This might make you a little dizzy. It's a pulsating jet of water."

Now, I had always been told that you should never shoot water into your ear or put anything into your ear canal. But he took the water pistol, pressed it right into my ear canal and blasted. It was startling, but it didn't hurt. It just felt really, really weird.

"This both pulses water into your ear canal, but it also sucks it back out," he explained.

After a minute or so, he stopped the water and then took a little white stick with a loop on the end, and he started pulling stuff out. But it wasn't much. So, he applied new eardrops and left me alone again.

When he came back, he started to get stuff. I looked over on the sink and there were about six huge clumps of wax. I mean HUGE clumps of wax, ivory colored. Then he did the same spraying stuff in my other ear, and pulled out a huge single ball of wax. But it was black and red.

How disgusting am I? Ewwww.

Then, to continue, he had to recap the water pistol because I had clogged it up with even more ear carp.

"We still didn't get it all. So, at home use the drops and keeping doing the lavage."

Lavage? (Pronounced "Leh-vaaajjh")

I asked him about the instructions on the ear syringe to never shoot it directly into the canal.

He responded, "It won't hurt it as long as your ear drum isn't lacerated. And also, don't push the tip in and squeeze or you'll create pressure. Squirt it in from a slight distance and it'll just drain right out. Also, if you mix the water with hydrogen peroxide, it helps melt the wax, also.

And now you know I'm the nastiest grossest person on the planet. Or used to be.

Cat Fight!

Thoughts About TV and Password.

It has really been nice to just be home for a change. Of course, it would have to happen when there is absolutely nothing good to watch on TV. I'm so sick of all these game shows. And what pisses me off is that the one I really wanted to see, Password (with Regis), we totally missed. I hope they took it back to its pure form.

The thing about Password is that it was at its best in the earliest days when the show was about guessing random and the bonus round consisted of those word plates that popped up out of the table tops. I loved that! And I loved Alan Ludden's sly looks at the camera.

Then, some idiot invented "Super Password" and I totally hated that. Why? Because the words were no longer random. Now they had to fit into some totally stupid rebus of other words which, when fit together, suggested something else. That's when they started giving them words like "George." Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Boring.

I didn't mind the bonus round where they had to name words in alphabetical order, though. That was cool. Once again, except for the first letter, the words came randomly.

The only reality shows I like are the ones where the contestants have to actually do something creative. Like make a dress or cook a meal. (Project Runway and Top Chef). I get so tired of "Survivor," which is like a beach game olympics. I mean, seriously, who would have thought 20 years ago that one of the biggest shows on network teevee would consist of people playing beach games?

I also don't like "Dancing with the Stars." I'm so bored by the current culture, I can't tell who the stars are. Like when Donny Osmond was hosting "Pyramid," I never knew which person sitting there was the "celebrity." How many celebrities can there be on this planet? If everyone is a celebrity, then no one's a celebrity.

I do love "Battlestar Galactica," though, and not just because it's SF. It's because it's the best written show on television. If you haven't watched the current season, try to start from the beginning. It's so not about shooting things and blowing things up with ray guns. It's also about religion and personality cults.

The humans have all these gods in their religion. And they've been infiltrated by Cylons, who are synthetic humans who've suddenly developed a monotheistic religion. All of this happening aboard ships that are basically falling apart while they try to find their way to earth. Meanwhile, the guy that got the humans into most of the trouble in the first place has a personality cult going filled with lots of beautiful women.

It might sound confusing, but I love philosophy and religion and psychology. To drop all this complexity into a show about space ships is too good to pass up.

I'm also a little sad that The Last Session has closed in Norwich. Funny thing about theatre. When it's there, it's there. When it's not, it's gone. Brett Bernardini told me that wonderful and miraculous things happened during its run. I hope more theaters will pull together the courage to produce it.

Meanwhile, The Big Voice is getting its first independent production. One of my readers has organized his own theater within his church, and he wants to make The Big Voice his first big production. This is in Allentown, PA. Happily, we're going to get to meet him in Philadelphia in a couple of weeks.

Still, being here with Jim and Steinbeck here alone in the apartment, with no schedules, no traveling and nothing but each other, it's been really nice. I've been working daily on the scores and demos for "Pantheon" while cheering Kathleen McGuire on with her AIDS Life/Cycle adventure from San Francisco to LA. (We'll be seeing each other on Saturday).