A Tale of Two Cities

I have been studying a little about programming blogs, so you must forgive me if I try a minor flourish in here. I have learned the hard way that this stuff is tricky






This is a tale of two cities, or rather two concerts in two cities, or rather two crowd watching two concerts in two cities. In October, I went to see Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, a three day free concert in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. This past weekend, I went to see Dave Matthew's Band Caravan, a three day concert in Atlantic City NJ, though I only went for one day. At the Atlantic City concert, I was older than maybe 1% of the crowd. At Golden Gate Park, I was right there among the beautiful people (or as you might say, the old people). And I couldn't help but wonder. Why at the one event and not the other. It wouldn't appear to be the city. After all AC, a casino town has a traditional codger demographic. It can't be the cost, as the young are usually the ones who can be priced out of events, So it is the music. But the music isn't really that different. DMB could easily play HSB and no one would raise an eyebrow. How is it different? Well none of the DMB Caravan bands played back in the hay day of the beautiful people, while HSB included Elvis Costello, Patti Smith, Emmy Lou Harris if you get the picture. Are my compadres stuck in the past clinging to the fragile memories of youth, or am I hopelessly chasing the illusion of actual youth. Or maybe living through the experience of listening to Bass Nectar has caused a subtle brain damage, and this sentence you read is the result.

OBLIVIOUS

Now that is a condition that I have been accused of embracing and it would explain alot. After all it is reasonable to ask someone to get their sexual preferences straight (or not) before they slip into a senescent state. I am not sure that I am going to make it however. Dont Ask? Don't Tell? How about Don't Know. I have enjoyed the company of t-girls mostly the last couple of years. And t-girls are generally somewhere between boys and girls and some, when they take their clothes off are more boys than girls. It has been a great revelation to me since I started dressing more publically that right from day one, i was willing to be intimate with t-girls, and over time the great revelation has been that I dont mind the boy in the girl. This weekend at a bar hanging out with a friend. We were talking with a gay man my age, about t-girls and what our sexuality was. I was trying to explain that it was complicated. He had a simple rule for gay. He asked what was the last time you sucked cock. well... darn... what a question... 3 hours I said.. and that seemed to take care of the complexities for him. He appeared to be oblivious to the subtleties.

Oblivious.... I have also begun to wonder about forgetting. I find myself increasingly forgetful mostly about names... and names... well I was always oblivious... only now do I have the social smarts to realize that is makes sense to make a point of remembering names... People like when you remember their name. If you live long enough, and get far enough away from your youth, you realize that a whole bunch of it is forgotten or never thought of. Where do those summer days of baseball, and ring alevio and monopoly go when they are never thought of, and when thought of.. how have they all merged into an indistinct something. Imagine if we lived 10 or 100 times longer than we do. Would we essentially be totally disconnected from childhood, unable to remember the least thing? Or is it all lurking there.. (where?) waiting for that silly little sliver of moving consciousness we call ME. to get around to visiting.

Now this gentleman spent a lot of time thinking about the problem.

Buddhism in my understanding says let it go... let everything go... the problem is clinging.. holding on. Oblivion is the great ocean of the eternal.

Jump honey... Mama will catch you. Unless I forget there should be a part two.

Desolation Angels

Does anyone remember that fine book? Kerouac believed in automatic writing. Unfiltered and unedited communication of the unconscious. This is sort of like that. And like an author penning the most intimate thoughts, who knows if anyone will ever read them.
At any rate, how can you wake up in the morning so evolved. I mean completely meditating, empty mind, in your girls body, and feeling everything the kiss breathing out just a few fingers past the intersection of the brows, you know that place, and your nipples sometimes tingle and sometimes there is a feeling as prana ascends up through your vagina... That is re-imagining yourself, and i even not this morning but not too long ago imagined that i had a penis and i could feel it sticking up and out so boyish.. over the rainbow.
and then in an afternoon and getting ready for a party and painting your toenails pumpkin color and playing with your hair and the party is just the most in the life people, the sissy maid competition and it is such fun, only you aren't competing and you wonder why and you don't know if it is fear or maybe you just really aren't maid that way, except so many nights eyes closed imagining a always the Aunties, and strict Ladies, and the boy under discipline and the maid dress... put it on now! nara paracini!
Too old too timid or too sensible. who knows. I just hope the party is fun. After all my first sissy boy-girlfriend will be there.