Geico, gecko, and Gayco

Ah … nothing says part-time employment like cubicles, carpel-tunnel syndrome, and counting the very minutes until you can run like hell to the nearest bar and brainstorm strategies of how not to kill yourself before returning to your fluorescently-lit prison the very next day.

OK so I'm exaggerating! To be honest, I found my first week at Geico to be delightfully tolerable (for those of you who haven't turned on a TV since 1985, Geico is an auto insurance company with a clever advertising campaign). Some highlights/observations of the week:

-Bathroom drama: Yeah OK … they can save you 15% or more on car insurance, but can they install urinals at proper heights to avoid embarrassing splash-watermarks on my pants? Lord! By the time I was done peeing it looked like I had knelt down in a kiddie pool !!! Also, I was quite offended by the automated bathroom deodorizer that took one look at me and immediately sent out an explosion of Lysol – rude!!!

-Message boards: Geico seems to take decent care of its employees, and promotes a true workforce-community atmosphere with events, message boards, and etc. For a minute, I thought that Geico was also supporting personal ads for singles or not-so-singles who were looking for some uninsured fun off the clock. The message on the board read: "nice body, good interior, runs". I was thinking of writing down the number until I realized this was an advert for a car (Bronco or a Mini?), and I was somewhat disappointed.

-The elusive Gecko: Oh yes, friends, it's true. I have received insider information that confirms the Gecko is very, very real and lurks the hallways of the Geico complex on occasion. You have no idea how much the idea of a live, walking, human-sized gecko turns my blood warm ("…so, Mr. Gecko, where else can your tongue stretch?"). And while I'd like to milk this lizard for all it's worth, rumor has it that the gecko only makes rare appearances.

-Gayco: I didn't see them at first, but after a few days of hacking my way through the straight-infested thicket of cheery Geico employees I happened upon the queens of Gayco. The queers can be identified by their plumage (product in hair), markings (A&F or Hollister), and movement (strut your stuff, bitches!). Birdwatching? Only if you give me a peck or two, Woody.

All of this wildlife imagery has me thinking of the expression "more camp than a box of frogs", which is ironically appropriate. So whilst I type away in my snoozy cubicle in the Geico Jungle, perhaps my only distracting thoughts will include a Tarzan swinging through on a mailroom cart, slashing at the overgrowth with a letter-opener, and accidentally catching his loincloth in the paper shredder.

Gays in the news (Gay sin then “ew”s)

Well, we are a persevering bunch, aren't we? Open the newspaper and you're bombarded with gay drama from politics to church to hate crimes. If only there were an island where all the gay people could retreat and seek shelter; oh right, that's Manhattan.

Anglican Archbishop Peter Akinola of Nigeria was recently quoted in the Lakeland Ledger as "calling the growing acceptance of gay relationships a 'satanic attack' on the church" (I can see the new Fox show now: "Exorcist Eye for the Queer Guy"). Perhaps the term "attack" is lost in translation; usually I think of forcible entry and take-over. Since when have queens and queers attempted to overrun and ruin the church by means of attack? Ironic that people in Nigeria are sentenced to death by stoning for committing sodomy (http://www.afrol.com/articles/16722); perhaps Akinola should reconsider the meaning of the word "attack".

All this drama for the Episcopalians prompted Rowan Williams, the Anglican spiritual leader (in the Episcopal church I think this means leading a modest clap to organ music) to suggest a two-tier system of membership, with branches that ordain partnered gays given a lesser status.

Lesser status, indeed. Christmas commercials pound the radio advertising goods only for straight couples. The erotica and relationship section at Books-A-Million should really be entitled "Gays-be-gone"- not a drop of homo-anything (ironically making the section highly homogenous, haha). Thank you Mrs. Williams, for perpetuating our already publicly acknowledged and accepted discriminatory political and social policies that exclude gay people and their rights. After all, Blacks were not given equal status until after the Civil Rights Movement (and still do not truly have it). The queers can wait their turn.

So kudos to the Episcopal church for trying to make it through this rough patch in its growth and reach out to diverse populations. Changes in religion are always rough, especially when some people mask their anger as conviction. My advice? Well … what would you do with an emerging tree in the middle of a tangled thicket?

Cut back the thorns and dead wood that hold you down: then let yourselves heal, and reach for the sky.

War on Christmas

Ah, the Lakeland Ledger. A local newspaper where a liberal can collect enough mud to sling for a good month or so while on break for the holidays … er, or for Christmas, depending on your political affiliation (or religious ties? Is there a difference anymore?).

Yesterday morning I was reading about the "War on Christmas"; a conservative Christian movement to get the Christ back in Christmas. The American Family Association (which by name would lead one to think that this organization is made up of all the different kinds of families America has to offer- this proves to be otherwise) publishes a list of "naughty" and "nice" commercial stores. "Nice" means a store that refers specifically to Christmas, and "naughty" means using a "multicultural mush of 'winter parties, 'seasonal sales' and 'Happy Holidays'".

A multicultural mush … have we backslid that far?

Jennifer Giroux of Cincinnati feels that people who do not worry about the political-correctness of "happy holidays" can then focus more on the "whole peace-on-earth and goodwill-toward-man thing". I suppose Jennifer assumes that peace and goodwill can only be narrowly defined by the constructs of her own religion and culture- yikes.

What's so terrible about being inclusive? Christmas is a time of sharing and caring. "Happy Holidays" keeps the door open for dialogue about differences- which generally leads to conversations on commonalities.

A recent poll suggests that 46% of Americans are offended when a store clerk greets them with "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" (no specific data on whether this poll was carried out in South Dakota or NYC; I reckon it would make a difference). I wonder if a Jewish family is likewise offended when Christmas is rammed down their holiday throats? Does anyone care?

It's this simple: not all Americans celebrate Christmas. Happy Holidays is not anti-Christmas; it is an inclusive greeting that respects every individual's choice to celebrate, or not celebrate, according to his or her values and beliefs.

What could be more anti-Christmas than separatism? Peace on earth does not translate to a manger with angels; it's about love, compassion, and unity.

Now … which sounds naughty or nice?

Post: American values

The United States commemorative stamps have been announced for the year 2007. I would imagine that the items important enough to make the brand of the very stamps that litter our daily postage are significant indicators as to what American society values in our country. Let's see what makes America American:

-Hershey kisses: Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. Fine, America likes to eat. Perhaps we should have a stamp commemorating insulin, as well.
-Ella Fizgerald: Excellent! Music and diversity; I approve.
-International Polar Year: Well, some astronomer has taken a break from his MySpace or Dudetube (WARNING: do not Google Dudetube unless you are prepared for dilated pupils) to give a timid "woohoo" that a stamp with his interests has been issued.
-24 animal and plant species of the Rocky Mountains: The US postal service is yet to comment on whether these stamps will show the animals being hunted, skinned, and roasted, or if there will be before-and-after shots of the plant species being replaced by oil rigs and day spas.
-vintage mahogany speedboats: Discrimination in this country has gone far enough! Where are the stamps for birch or pinewood speedboats?!? This must stop, people, really!
-Mendez vs. Westminster, challenging segregation in California in 1947: Can I get a "whoop-whoop" from the Supreme Court and government officials? Oh wait, they're almost all White and have no rhythm.
-silhouettes of jury duty members, with the emblem "Serve with pride": If you use a blacklight, you can reveal the hidden script "Serve because you have to, bitches".
-inspired by traditional Norwegian sweaters and Christmas stockings: zzzz …. Huh? What? Oh!!!! Sorry, nodded off there a minute. I guess we can all sit around and wait for Chanukah, Kwanzaa, or other religious iconographies and memorabilia. After all, Americans only celebrate Christmas.
-settlement of Jamestown: Of course! What could be more American than taking over countries or land that don't belong to us? No comment on present military activities …
-Marvel superheroes: Well, I would rather have stamps of the police officers, firefighters, and ambulance workers that actually save the world, but imaginary characters in skin-tight and revealing costumes draws a close second.

So there we have it. America values its food, music, poles (or polls?), wildlife, speedboats, legal action, sweaters and stockings, foreign invasion, and fantasy. We are promoting life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!

Life: assuming we control the food we eat and don't develop cancers from obesity and a sedentary lifestyle.
Liberty: yes, if you discard oppression and the intolerance of anything "different"
Pursuit of happiness: ideally you should have a mahogany speedboat to catch up to happiness; however my personal choice of transport would be riding Superman.

Doctor Doctor

Doctors are like teachers- you automatically assume that they do not have personal lives outside of their profession. Imagine: you're walking along in the produce section of the grocery store and up pops your high school math teacher. For some reason, you're surprised that the teacher is there. Teachers don't eat and consume beverage at will! This is craziness! The same goes for our medical personnel, who we assume have never set foot or lived outside of the hospital doors.

Until you bump into a few surprises, in the most unlikely of places …

Back in August I was experiencing some slight penile irritation from an unknown source (don't worry gents! Actual cause was too much coffee, I swear – Starbucks is the STD of the millennium). My doctor's office was fully prepared to test the myriad of possible explanations for this unpleasantness, including a fairly uncomfortable examination of my prostate by a young and friendly visiting intern.

The following Friday I proceeded to my gay locale of choice to enjoy a plethora of libations in a cozy cowboy atmosphere. And who should I see sweeping the dance floor without a lab coat? My precious intern!!!

Immediate drama ensued ("oh my god! Oh My God! OH MY GOD!!!"), but I kept my cool and avoided all contact with a man who knew my insides better than most (let's keep the snide comments to a minimum, please). However, it is difficult to avoid an intern who comes square up to your face and drags you out on the dance floor!

Later I was recounting the delicious doctor details to a friend: "It was so strange, Liz. One moment he has his lubed finger up my rectum, and the next minute we're doing the waltz!" Liz replied, "Yeah um … shouldn't it be the other way around?"

This fairy-tale (wink) is enough in and of itself to make any grandma keel over and demand oxygen, but wait- my doctor adventures were not over!

Last week I cruised into another enjoyable boy hot-spot in Dupont, where I came face to face with my orthopedic surgeon! Except this time, he was tending bar! "Why, hello doctor! Yes, my knees are doing better and I'll look into those supportive arches. Now, do a queen a favor and fetch us a Miller Lite." WTF …

I'll wrap it all up for you: a man who explored my rectal cavity asked me to dance, and another man who had a good, looooong look at the back of my "knees" while I was standing in my underwear bought me a beer.

Sigh … sadly neither of them were forward enough to check my throat with their tongue depressor.

Night of Broken Glass

-"Know before whom you stand"-

This is a quote from the Holocaust museum, in the section depicting the atrocities on the Night of Broken Glass.

This is the third time that broken glass has caught my attention this week. The first time was near the Metro, where a single pebble had fractured an entire wall of glass and had sent hundreds of unique engravings 10 feet high. The second time was at school, where vandals had shattered an entire window by busting it through with a rock. And the third time there, at the Holocaust museum.

The particular meaning for the cascading fractures of glass, and the quote, carry great significance for me today.

I have watched as a single pebble has pierced my own personal glassy window, spreading fragments all along the surface. The window remains intact, yet the impact of that pebble can be seen all over. It makes me think of emotions, and how a single event can profoundly impact our lives. A tiny pebble can suddenly become pervasive in what we see, do, think, and feel.

The reality was this- I did not know before whom I stood.

Someone who would trade my laughter for licentiousness, I guess. Someone who would trade time with me for fleeting moments elsewhere. Someone who doesn't appreciate something pretty special. When you finally open up and give what feels natural, only to learn that this isn't enough. Pretty sad, friends—pretty sad.

Time heals all wounds, and even all panes (see- I still have my sense of humor about me). Snippets of shattered shards slowly slink back into position, the window will become clear again, and emotions will settle back to their clean, transparent whole.

Ouch; even a tiny pebble can sting.