Dear Beloved Friends (and trying to "love you anyway" enemies)
I'm home. I'm safe. I've been elevated in manhood (while noting my own stupidity) thanks to participating, and paying money to do it, at an All-Americano Amusement(?) Park! I went, I paid, I conquered, and therefore earned a dimly lit badge of inner-most honor, at the "5 difficulty/warning" (OK, so I didn't notice the sign that designates 5 as the *most* horrid) RIDE on one of the most terrorfilled (outside of being Gay, of course) Amusement (?) Rides at Knotts Berry Farm.
Shake, rattle and roll are sissy words!As my life twisted and turned before me with the other NUTS, of all ages, at the KNOTTS "not-so-amusing" bruising "ride" I kept thinking, in feverish glimpses, "Holy Crapola I'm still not in charge of anything at ALL" as my personally participated in life passed before me like a big blur of a Knotts special Boysenberry flavored trip to nothingness...in just one neck snapping split of a quirky second or in a misjudgment of a lean (for the not-so-lean) or turn or with a unsecured toss into the air of thinning hair (only in the front) or some other kind of heart-stopping/blod-clotting physical emergency momento, yet unforseen but getting close...yet, I held tight with sweaty palms. I survived them and me! Another of lifes dangerous sides/rides, once again became a learning experience (run-for-cover is most always best).
If I were a Fundie Christian fellow I would be yammering about how God had saved me from certain death but as it turns out, I'm a well-adjusted, spiritually and emotionally (mostly), Episcopalian who simply believes that God has positioned me in my life for another line to RIDE out the next/rest of the "love them/neighborhood anyway" challenge (saving the hard one for the last)...hopefully, I won't be required to take a number "6" or a "7" test.
My good friend, and online amiga, fs, recently did a full "10" with her nightmarish back surgery...fs is a true hero to the cowardly me and is joinged by Bonnie, Lee and Lynn and all the other heterosexual ladies who refuse to have their lives generated by fear are the humans that really have BALLS! Inspiring examples all to cowardly blowhards and some greedy/thieving not-so-know-it-all heterosexual(?) men!
Then there is the thought that all of this silly, amusement park nonsense ought not even be snickered at as the truly dangerous clergymen in Africa/beyond rush around attempting to make NAMES for their tarnished, soiled and less-than-Holymitredselves as they simultaneously persecute and demoralize fellow Christians/others OPENLY and attempt to tear the Anglican Communion apart!
Big dopes looking for other nasty minds to hang-out others to dry with.
These self-promoting creatures and fear/hate-mongering fundraisers purpose to further twist already twisted minds (their own and others) with self-righteous and irresponsible bigotalk...it seems they've switched from White Sheets to multi-mono-toned (all navy,blue or black with the occassional darting blood red stripe of desire) and "slightly irregular" apre-ski outfits (the "little woman") purchased (at Ross and Wal-Mart) for the Men's Retreat and Cook'em Up and more Homophobic "Agenda" junktalk at freshly minted camp settings in Southern California.
They (ought) make better use of their time/money by eating at The Knotts Berry Farm CHICKEN HOUSE (speaking of themes) where they belong with extra-long bibs on.
Photo by Juan Carlos Castillo Fuentes
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15 comments:
Dear Friends,
I'm home. I'm safe. I've been elevated in manhood (while noting my own stupidity) thanks to participating, and paying money to do it, at an All-Americano Amusement(?) Park!
I went, I paid, I conquered, and therefore earned a dimly lit badge of inner-most honor, at the "5 difficulty/warning" (OK, so I didn't notice the sign) RIDE on one of the most terrorfilled (outside of being Gay, of course) Amusement (?) Rides I've at Knotts Berry Farm.
Shake, rattle and roll are sissy words!
As my life twisted and turned before me with the other NUTS, of all ages, at the KNOTTS "not-so-amusing" bruising "ride" I kept thinking, in feverish glimpses, "Holy Crapola I'm still not in charge of anything at ALL" as my personally participated in life passed before me like a big blur of a Knotts special Boysenberry flavored trip to nothingness...in just one neck snapping split of a quirky second or in a misjudgment of a lean (for the not-so-lean) or turn or with a unsecured toss into the air of thinning hair (only in the front) or some other kind of heart-stopping/blod-clotting physical emergency momento, yet unforseen but getting close...yet, I held tight with sweaty palms. I survived them and me! Another of lifes dangerous sides/rides, once again became a learning experience (run-for-cover is most always best).
If I were a Fundie Christian fellow I would be yammering about how God had saved me from certain death but as it turns out, I'm a well-adjusted (mostly) Episcopalian who simply believes that God has positioned my in another line to RIDE out the next/rest of the "love them anyway" challenge...hopefully, I won't be required to take a number "6" or a "7" tests.
My good friend, and online amiga, fs, recently did a full "10" with nightmarish back surgery...fs is a true hero to the cowardly me and Bonnie and Lynn and all the other heterosexual ladies who refuse to have their lives generated by fear are the ones that I notice really have BALLS!
Inspiring examples all to cowardly blowhards and some greedy/thieving not so know-it-all heterosexual(?) men!
Then there is the thought that all of this silly, amusement park nonsense ought not even be smirked at as truly dangerous clergymen in Africa/beyond rush around attempting to make NAMES for their tarnished, soiled and less-than-Holy mitredselves as they persecute and demoralize fellow Christians/others OPENLY! These creatures and fear/hate-mongering fundraising purposes to further twist already twisted minds (their own and others) of self-righteous and irresponsible bigots who switched from White Sheets to mult-toned (all navy,blue or black with the occassional darting blood red stripe) second-quality apre-ski outfits (the "little woman") purchased for their Men's Retreat and Cook Up more Homophobic "Agenda" junktalk at plastic/camp settings in Southern California.
They should make better use of their time eating at The Knotts Berry Farm CHICKEN HOUSE.
Oh for God's sake, Leonardo.. you were thirty minutes from me. Would have paid for the ice cream... gads.
Not going on that dang ride, though...
Leonardo, you went willingly to Knotts Berry Farm? Once (a command performance)in the early 1980s was enough. I think I bought some jam (??).
And as for hate-mongering Christians, dear friend - my mother never would have allowed that in our household. Far from an "activist" in the 1960s, she did sit us down rather fast for a chat if we kids had a problem with anyone who was a little different. This from a Phi Beta Kappa beauty queen (no lie!)
And as for hate-mongering Christians, dear friend - my mother never would have allowed that in our household." Lynn
We didn't KNOW ANY fear/hate-mongering anything...my Mom, a former State Beauty Queen (also awarded a "aboveboard" diamond pave broche by P. Lorillard Kent, so there)...I didn't even know they "discriminated" in the South until I was in my late teens and saw the drinking fountain/rest room "signs"...gasp, the lynchings we're shockers too...my Mom advised that I avoid religious "Nuts" as we noted several when approaching the Philharmonic Orchestra Building on Purshing Square in Los Angeles...also, my sister and I were advised to not "reveal" anything personal to strangers (on any level).
My Goodness Cany...I HATE THAT, I was staying at the Bella (what's it's name) on Katella! DAMN!
Welcome home! And I love the new photo at the head of the blog: no more green teeth!
OK Leonardo, let us hope that I have joined the techno age and this comment will appear.
Blushing!
"fs is a true hero to the cowardly me and is joinged by Bonnie, Lee and Lynn and all the other heterosexual ladies who refuse to have their lives generated by fear are the humans that really have BALLS!"
Thank you for the compliment but your grace, humor, courage, and especially--most especially--your heart always give hope. So, keep fighting the good fight.
Also I hope you noticed on the top 10 Fanglican Communion list, Akinola is sandwiched between our lovely ++Katharine and +Gene.
On a lighter note, I do think you look better without green teeth. Was that the reason for the sudden trip to California? Confess...you picked fruit from some forbidden tropical tree, ate the fruit, and were Divinely smited with green teeth. Then whoooosh...off to the dentist to the stars in LA! And you were pretending to be near Disneyland, for shame.
What GREEN teeth? I swear when I got to LA and came to this blog I almost dropped dead (shame? vanity? sloth?) with the "look" of broken blood vessels all over my face...I hardly would have noticed the green teeth even if there had been green teeth but I'd just had a full mouth of gleam restored shortly before my trip/photo...you're just "green" with envy that I survived such a "fortitude" proving "ride" at Knotts Berry Farm...btw, when I was a kid we went there sometimes to eat those Chicken Dinners...and once I purchased a lovely huge free-form Blenko Glass ash tray in ORANGE for my parents (who didn't smoke) for their Anniversary...ah, signs of flaired up edginess were present at a very early stage (and they say *it's* not inborn...humph)...I HAVE the actual ashtray here with me (I put it out for parties on a table in the garden for the last of the smokees) and it is truly beauteous...such style, such panache...however, there was NEVER a GREEN tooth allowed (for all the obvious/well-known reasons) even during my overly "festive" years of attempted hedonism.
Happy everything my friends.
Love to you all
Oh Lynn you silly:) anyone near OC should let me know, we could meet for coffee, ice cream or something:)
There are a dozen or so sane people here... so i can always use company:)
hehehe
and my dear ricardo... yes, there WERE green teeth... time for a new monitor on your end?
I was about to start singing you Aventura's ¿Cuándo volverás?
Glad to see you back.
Hey, welcome back, Leonardo! I hope your vacation was overall fun despite that Knott's Berry Farm ride. My, how times have changed. When I was a kid (long, long ago), Knott's Berry Farm didn't have rides, or much of anything, except for old-fashioned chicken dinners and berry pie desserts in a peaceful, country-ish setting. We used to drive up from San Diego to Disneyland every year for my birthday and top the evening off with dinner at quiet, rural, Knott's Berry Farm.
And now, rides ...sheesh... sounds like a microcosm for what's become of the whole country. Next time you find yourself around Anaheim, CA, look into taking the boat to Catalina Island and staying a night or two. But then again, the place you live, below the volcano, is probably 100 times more charming even than Catalina...
I LOVE your new pictures, the main one and the adorable one on this post. It looks like you lucked out and inherited your mom's smile, Leonardo. It lights up the page.
As for the surgery, I really didn't have much choice, amigo. My spine was collapsing inside my body, and I was heading into a wheelchair existence. Thanks be to God for all the prayers that saw me through it.
Ditto to what Bonnie said about your spirit giving us all hope. It's true. Viva nuestro amigo, Leonardo!
Glad you're home, safe and sound.
Dear fs,
That was my childhood experience(s) with Knotts Berry Farm EXACTLY...I have especially fond memories of the simple family owned place in the Orange Grove...The Wildwest flavoured, recreated Western Town complete with fake gun fights (on the half-hour)in the street... shopping at Virginias Gift Shop (still there) and EATING those famous/tasty Chicken Dinners at the Chicken House (there was such long/wrap-around-the-building line on THURSDAY of last week that we went to Tony Romas near Disneyland instead)...now it's quite a different atmosphere with it's concoction of whizzing/spinning terrorfying space age rides (one price for all the torture/yanking-about you can endure)...I did enjoy rides on the old train, stage coach and the entertainment at the Pepsi Saloon too...I was in Southern California on business, so it was a colorful and fun break and memorable revisit, albeit updated, to my youth...it made me feel a tad "filled up" with emotion to think of walking through those same spaces with my delightful and loving Mom and Dad when I was a youngster.
Your memory really IS good, Leonardo. I'd forgotten about the Western town and the sudden, "spontaneous" gun fights, but as soon as you mentioned them, they came back. What fun they were.
Hey, we're pretty lucky to remember a more innocent, low-tech, home-grown time, aren't we?
Hey, we're pretty lucky to remember a more innocent, low-tech, home-grown time, aren't we?
fs
Dear fs,
Yes, yes and yes...it's amazing to note that part of the 1950's sensibility including a sort of REAL and LIVING idealism...sure, there was lots of ugliness and pretend occuring in the world (Civil Rights comes quickly to mind) but there were also, vast Orange Groves, pristine Beaches, Norman Vincent Peales "Positive Thinking" agenda (that somehow filtered down to me via Mom's interest in his work), quality Republicans (the ones that take first person responsibility for the results of their voting actions and stay the heck out of other peoples individual liberties)...I remember visiting relatives, The Taylors (of former busline fame) in their huge old Victorian house in the midst of Orange grove in Santa Ana and then visitng my folks best friends, The Neslens, who lived in the MIDDLE of a Orange Grove near Santa Barbra the following weekend...ah, the good old days/daze were lovely and juicy too!
You know, I never thought I'd be nostalgic for those particulars (was so eager to get away from the whole Southern California sterile 50s straight-jacket thing and find my "real" self in San Francisco's cool jaunty Sixties aliveness) -- but you remind me of how peaceful and innocent it could be down there in the groves, in the 50s. Thanks for that, Leonardo.
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