Susan Tyrell, R.I.P.

On Turner Movie Channel tonight they were running John Huston's 1972 film "Fat City", with Stacy Keach and Jeff Bridges. And Susan Tyrell, a cult favorite (or "thesp" as Variety calls her). I high-tailed it to the computer to look her up and discovered, among the Bing search results, that she has a web site (http://susantyrrell.com/) which I looked up and discovered, to my shock, that she had died. I mean just died, on June 16.

She was nominated for an Oscar for her performance in "Fat City" and made a lot of movies thereafter, not many that could even remotely be called mainstream (e.g. "Forbidden Zone" in which she played Queen Doris of the Sixth Dimension). She was like some force of nature -- there's a scene in "Fat City" that takes place in a bar. Stacy Keach is telling a story to two other people at their table, and Susan just sits there, smoking, drinking, listening. She's not deliberately pulling focus or upstaging anyone. But even when she's just sitting there, looking off into the middle distance at God knows what, she's riveting. You can't take your eyes off her. (Pauline Kael called her "an entire school of acting", which was not intended as a compliment.)

Years ago in some magazine there was a photograph of her in a white hat and a 40's style dress with palm trees all over it, that I ripped out and copied in water color. Years later, when I was living in LA, my then-partner and I went to a little theater in Hollywood to see her one-woman show "My Rotten Life" which took a finely-honed meat cleaver to all those one-person shows about the triumph of the human spirit over whatever and what a swell person I am, even I can hardly believe it, the ups and downs of this business we call Show... She had none of it. In her version, she was telling the story of her life from Hell where she figured she'd probably wind up. I took the water color with me and gave it to her after the show, and she was genuinely touched.

"The last thing my mother said to me was, 'SuSu, your life is a celebration of everything that is cheap and tawdry'," she recalled to the author of a 2000 profile in the LA Weekly. "I've always liked that, and I've always tried to live up to it."

Even she probably didn't know just how rotten her life would become: in late April of 2000 she was diagnosed with an extremely rare blood disorder, "essential thrombocythemia. Only one case in 100,000 is diagnosed each year. Four days later she had both legs amputated below the knee. (For the full LA Weekly article, click the link in the Entertainment Weekly obit: http://news-briefs.ew.com/2012/06/18/susan-tyrrell-dies/). The story of how she wound up sleeping with John Huston and its ultimate effect on her is clear-eyed and chilling and sad.

Yet she kept working and, apparently, maintained her spirit. The warped, sweet, fuck-you attitude that led her to love and identify with and "collect" life's misfits and cast-offs.

She wasn't someone whose career I followed or who, God knows, was very famous. But in a world where people like the Kardashians are considered role models... it just made me sad.

R.I.P. Susu.

The Best Thing I Ever Heard from a Genius

Stephen Hawking, close to the sun.

"Stephen Hawking is a British theoretical physicist and cosmologist, a renowned professor at Cambridge for 30 years. His contributions in cosmology and quantum gravity catapulted him to fame in the global scientific community. He predicted that black holes emit radiation. But he became controversial when he crossed the deep chasm between science and religion, and claimed that the Universe came from nothing and had no Creator." --Sister Raquel's Blog - http://www.sisterraquel.com

Not surprisingly many people violently disagree with his theories. (Just check out the YouTube videos with titles like "Stephen Hawking is an Idiot".) Nevertheless, it's undeniable that he's survived and thrived in spite of apparently insuperable odds, the kind of circumstances that lead parents to say to whiny children, "You think you have it bad? Look at ________! He's got something to cry about!"

The other night I tuned in to an episode of "Stephen Hawking's Grand Design", a TV series on Discovery Channel based on Hawking's book. It's fascinating, for sure, although from time to time I got more than a little confused as he tried to make the inexplicable clear to a numbskull like me, but only served to further cloud the waters.

But one thing did strike me. At the beginning of each episode, Hawking introduces himself the same way:

"Hello, my name is Stephen Hawking: physicist, cosmologist and something of a dreamer. Although I cannot move and I have to speak through a computer, in my mind...I am free."

I've been trying to start and end each day with a little prayer and meditation, with limited success. But the minute I heard those words I connected, I understood. I felt a sense of peace. So I think I'm going to try starting out with a variation on Hawking's intro. I'll just substitute "physicist" and "cosmologist" with "academic co-ordinator" and "artist". And say "Although I have to work five days a week and have (fill in the malady), and have to (fill in the complaint du jour)...in my mind, I am free."

How beautiful is that?

"Call Me Gay-be"

So I was about to put together a new post about meditation and wakefulness and being alive vs. living in the past. Or living in the past vs. living in the Now... blah, blah, blah...

Then, while searching YouTube for something I saw on the news , I landed on this. I don't know if these guys are gay (I'm guessing not) but it's so cute and cheerful and, frankly, a little hot, that I thought "Screw enlightenment! Let's see some cute hetero guys shakin' their booties and (almost) making out with each other!"

 Click here: Call Me Gaybe ... love it!

Farewell L.A.

My sojourn on the Left Coast is winding down: I'm sitting in the lobby of the Burbank Airport Marriott, checking e-mails, tallying up my bill to make sure I haven't been overcharged, having the first of several cups of coffee.

This has been a wonderful long weekend. The reason for the visit was the annual AALA Roundup, sponsored by the gay and lesbian groups of AA in Southern California. There are workshops, meetings, banquets, fun and fellowship as they say. I saw several old friends, and tried to reconnect to someone dear to me who has, as nearly as I can tell, gone into seclusion with no way to contact.

Leo Carillo Beach, looking north toward Malibu

But in addition to the celebration of recovery, I took the opportunity of being really away to travel around a bit and visit old haunts. (Thanks to Hertz and a couple of free upgrades I've been tooling around in a candy apple red Toyota Corolla LE with the most awesome GPS.) I went up into the Hollywood hills to see the house where I used to live, completely redone now, having been severely damaged in a mudslide back in '95. (I don't like what they did with it...) Visited West Hollywood and the French Market, strolled around Beverly Hills, then back to Silver Lake to Sunset Junction, the funky little area on Sunset Blvd. near the house where I first moved back in 1988. It's very much alive and well, although A Different Light, the gay & lesbian bookstore is gone now, where I used to participate in poetry readings on Sunday nights, which led to my being published in an anthology of works culled from several years of those readings.

Yesterday, after a couple of workshops, I got in the car and drove up the coast to Leo Carillo State Park   north of Malibu, a camping ground and beautiful beach with rock formations to climb, caves to explore, and from which you can see harbor seals swimming just offshore. It was suggested to me, after a workshop on Prayer and Spirituality, that meditation can take many forms and I was reminded that, for me, getting in the car and driving, all alone, can be very calming and joyful. So I got on the freeway (well, two or three, really) and then through Las Virgenes, a long road through a deep canyon with spectacular views, that let me out on the coast in Malibu. I drove to the beach, explored a little, and fell asleep on the sand. Then back down Pacific Coast Highway to Venice, where I strolled Abbott Kinney Blvd., the main drag, and shopped and had one of the best sandwiches I've ever eaten: prosciutto, grilled asparagus and goat cheese with lemon zest on artisan bread. The whole day, though tiring, was remarkably restorative.

 A couple of nights I dropped off to sleep, fully dressed, at around 8 or 8:30 and didn't wake up until six the next morning. I've eaten well, and been reminded of how blessed I am -- in so many ways -- and that this is a wide, wide world. I mean, I know this -- I've traveled to many places here and abroad -- but it helps to be reminded from time to time, to actually see these places, meet the people, reconnect with old friends and remember that the little world I spin around in back home, which can give me such agita, is just a small piece of the larger puzzle.

In some ways it's been very emotional, seeing the places I used to live and remembering... I was a different person then, but aspects of that Fred are still with me. And now we're all coming home.

Update from Kona

well I know it's been awhil;e since I tried to write anything but I have been very buzy getting use to my new house and owners and there's all the sleeping I have to do. Like these humans say There is never eoungh time in the day. but Hey I'm not a complainer.

The Cat in the Bag

Last week it was one Year that I've been with the new Humans and it has been very eventfull. I have learned how to get up on the fish tank and jump from there to the top of wehre they keep the TV, the arm-war they call it (I think thats French or something) and then they get all nervous becase they think i'll hurt myself jumping back down but that shows you how much they know. I can get down just fine even tho Chris usually will come over and reach up and get me. I mean I'm not a baby. I actually had a birthday not long ago and the human Chris tells everyone that I'm really 62 in human years which I think we could do without brodcasting that all over the place.

that Human, Chris, has been working a lot at his catering gigs (he calls them) and getting up before dawn some days to go to work so of course I'm up with him and sometimes I will sit with him while he's on the computer doing that work he has to do for jewel school so he can get a certified paper and start doing jewel stuff. Which I know he likes because sometimes he watches on the TV when they're selling jewlry on those shows with the really happy ladies with the big teeth and fancy fingernails. He says that sometimes the deals aren't bad. He likes the color stones the best, diamonds not so much, and when the commercials come on for those Pandora charm bracelets he gets angry like someone just poked him with a fish bone.He really hates those. But he takes good care of me and makes sure I have everything I need, even treats sometimes. He calls me Kona Man and has a little song he sings.

the other Human called Fred is working very hard at his job at the nursing college and going to therapy for his shoulder which has been giving him trouble. The therapy lady has him doing exercises at home to get better and he uses a big rubber band for one of the exercises but I mean a BIG rubber band that he lets me play with sometimes which is awesome. It seems to be a little better. He hasnt said anything in a long time about his cancer so I guess that means its okay for now.

He is going away next week to Calrifornia to see some old friends and maybe go to the Venice beach and Beverly Hills and just relax because he's been so stressed out the humans call it. Sometimes he looks so tired and sad so I try to cheer him up and give him love bites on his ankles. He doesnt understand this. I dont either, its a cat thing I guess. the Other Human Chris says theyll get the Pet Sidekick (?) to channel me and find out why I do that but it will probly be a waste of there money because I don't know. Maybe I'll make something up so they don't think theyre wasting there money on the Pet Sidekick.

Well that's all fornow. It is spring and I can sit in the open windows and smell the birds and trees and the Chinese food in the air. My humans are going down to Maryland to get a French picture they bought next month and see some family members of Chris's. They found this French picture at an anteek mall which i gather is wehre humans sell old things that some people dont want but other people do. Theyre always getting pictures and rugs and little pottery things for flowers and I've seen enough TV now to know that this is very gay and is part of their DNA and they cant help it. Like me biting Fred's ankles. Don't ask me why!

That's all for now--
Your gray-furred friend Kona

A Positive Rant

Heading to our nation's capital for the weekend, where Chris will participate in the Epilepsy Walk and I will take in the National Gallery and the cherry blossoms.

With that on my mind, and given that D.C. is the home to our fearless leaders and representatives -- and that it seems the news is crappier than usual these days-- I thought I'd share some good news, or at least a different view of The Big Picture than you're likely to get on the nightly/cable/24-hour news.

It's from quite a long article by investment guru and economist Alexander Green, in Spiritual Wealth, an e-newsletter I receive on a regular basis. It repeats a litany of information you've likely heard before about how different things are now than they were earlier in the 20th century, or before. But there's a wealth of stuff to think about, too, and I thought I'd pass some of it on. As the title of the article asks, "How often do you hear a positive rant?"

     "Consider that in the first half of the twentieth century, most people earned a subsistence living through long hours of backbreaking work on farms or in factories. In 1850, the average workweek was 64 hours. In 1900, it was 53. Today it is 42 hours. On the whole, Americans work less, have more purchasing power, enjoy goods and services in almost unlimited supply, and have much more leisure. 
     "Or take computing. In 1987, a megabyte of memory cost $5,000. The Mac II sitting on my desk - with one megabyte of memory and a running speed of 16 megahertz (which Apple described as "blindingly fast") - cost $5,500. Today an exponentially smaller, faster and better machine costs less than a tenth as much. As for memory, you can buy a terabyte drive today for less than 60 bucks. 
     "In Africa today a Masai warrior on a cellphone has better mobile communications than the President of the United States did 25 years ago; if he's on a smartphone with Google, he has access to more information than the President did just 15 years ago, with a feast of standard features: watch, stereo, camera, video camera, voice recorder, GPS tracker, video teleconferencing equipment, a vast library of books, films, games, music. Just 20 years ago these same goods and services would have cost over $1 million... 
     "Cruelty as entertainment, human sacrifice to indulge superstition, slavery as a labor-saving device, conquest as the mission statement of government, genocide as a means of acquiring real estate, torture and mutilation as routine punishment, the death penalty for misdemeanors and differences of opinion, assassination as the mechanism of political succession, rape as the spoils of war, pogroms as outlets for frustration, homicide as the major form of conflict resolution - all were unexceptionable features of life for most of human history. But, today, they are rare to nonexistent in the West, far less common elsewhere than they used to be, and widely condemned when they are brought to light.
     "Thank your lucky stars that you won the lottery simply by being born in the modern era." 

Copyright © 2012 by The Oxford Club, L.L.C

Special Delivery

Fred's office, en fleurs

So last Thursday afternoon there's a soft knock on my office door and when I look up, there's Chris -- in his white shirt and black pants, just coming from his job -- holding an enormous bunch of the most beautiful, fragrant daffodils! Total surprise. The function he'd been working had apparently been decorated with masses of the flowers and he managed to make off with what appeared to be about two dozen.

They went immediately on my desk. I even shared half a dozen with my boss.

It made my day and is easily the most romantic thing that's happened to me in a long time.

Lucky me!