Matt and Tom's Big Gay Roadtrip

Matt and Tom's Big Gay Roadtrip: It ain't over til it's over...

2006-03-06T06:25:00.000-08:00

Matt and Tom's Big Gay Roadtrip: It ain't over til it's over...

It ain't over til it's over...

2006-03-06T06:13:00.000-08:00

The BGRT is over but life goes on darlings. Due to the tremendous response to the blog and my writing, I decided to join the blog nation and set up my own blog: www.lifeof2me.blogspot.com. Check it out and continue to be inspired...Tom

There's no place like home (Click, Click, Click)

2006-02-16T03:42:00.000-08:00

OK, ok some of you are annoyed at the Wizard of Oz allusions but fuck it, it's my blog and I'll write what I want! Nasty? Bitter? Jaded? Moi? No just back in New York and back to my New York ways.
Flew home on Monday, retracing in air what was accomplished with a fabulous friend and a big yellow truck on land just 2 weeks before. I followed the little plane icon on the map in the back of the seat in front of me to see where we were. Seems we actually followed I-80 for a while over the Rockies through Utah and Wyoming. I could look down and see the snow covered fields and mountains that we had driven past earlier in the month. Is there a word for that? When you fly over a place you've been and know exactly what and who is down there on the ground. Hmm, how about "aerocognization" "terra knowa" "aero-terra connectivity syndrome"? Comments are welcome at this point my darlings. While I wanted to snap pics from my window seat for the blog, I didn't want to bother my two seat mates who were busy on their lap tops. A confession must be made: I flew for the first time Jet Blue. Yes, I no longer am a Blue Virgin (oy the visual!) and even joined their frequent flyer club so now I'm True Blue (do I hear a Madonna song?). I must say it was a very pleasant flight and enjoyable experience. From the on line purchasing, to the lovely phone service when I changed my flight to Monday from Sunday on Saturday (huh?!?), free of charge, to the gracious way I was serviced on the plane (insert your own visualization here). For a post-blizzard full flight back to NYC, it was a pretty mellow experience. Usually any trip, no matter the mode of transportation, in and out of New York City is filled with tension and drama but this one was not strangely enough. I loved the much-heard-about TVs in the seats and watched cable show after cable show so I have something to talk about when I get stuck at a brunch talking about all the drivel on the boob tube. I love getting into these innocuous parlays and then announcing proudly that I never watch TV and even don't have cable (he did NOT just say that!). Well you can imagine the dropped silverware sounds and shrill queeny gasps so I won't go into detail. Any how, Kathy Griffin's show "My Life on the D-List" was really funny. Loved the Monster house show (fixing up peoples' houses to fit their fetish. Great Pirate themed house was built to replace to Whie trash ranch house somewhere in FLA I'm sure. Being a homo-homeowner (say that 3 X's fast)I love house shows. Add in an E! special on horrible parents of kid stars (The Different Strokes cast got it the worst) and voila, I was at JFK,NYC. Had a great cab ride home yakking in Russian with Grisha from Uzbekistan about the Old Country, good Central Asian restaurants in NYC and, of course, snow. Where else can you have such an experience in this country? Love this town!
So now I must mount my treadwheel again and start running. After looking at my checking account, I think I have to run pretty fast. My house was spared any snow drama, my tenant was kind enough to shovel in my absence and my 3 cats greeted me with purrs and wagging tails upon my return. The back yard is full of snow which is good, all those bulbs I planted need a good freeze. Had to dig a path out to my art studio so I could do some work and get back into the artist mode. It takes a few days but I'll be back in my mode soon. It feels like the end
of "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" w/o the fab ABBA number. To quote Freda (aka Hugo Weaving) "Oh, it's good to be back! I think I lost one of my boobs." Focus on the first sentence kids, the second one was for a laugh.
No sooner had the snow, hype and drama of the Blizzard of '06 died down that it all melted away. Yes the record levels were reduced to small mounds and large pools of slush that seem to coagulate at every street corner. One loses half their boot or shoe in the murky slush as they attempt to cross the street. It's all part of the NYC winter experience. If you can't deal with it, stay in Bumfuck, WI./MI./KS...well pick your own podunck state.
Upon my return to Brooklyn, I finished up the book I was reading prior to the road trip, "Unchosen: The Secret Life of Hasidic Rebels" an interesting read about the Hasidic Jewish communities here in NYC and those who break away from it. Hasids alway repulsed me and interested me at the same time. Repulsed may be a strong word but before you get on the saddle of your high horse, let me explain. I mean that the life they lead is so restrictive and conformed that I just don't understand how one could live that way. From the "uniforms" to all the crazy rituals, I just don't get it. But I understand it more after finishing the book. As I finished up the book this morning, I couldn't help to think back to all those people in those small towns in MO. and KS. and other ultra right wing Christian places. You know what? They're pretty much the same (they just don't run around in ugly scotch plaid and black hats). But the narrow, close-minded philosophy is the same, just as it is with all the Muslims burning Danish flags and embassies because of a cartoon. The more conservative you get, the scarier you get. While they say they are closer to God, they are so far from him (this is my opinion). I don't want to start a huge debate, just throwing it out there for all to read and/or tell me to shove it up my ass.
On that note, two things. First, did we mention in earlier postings that we saw one anit-Evolution sign in Kansas City, Kansas (the smaller one, not of "Oklahoma" fame). Yes indeed, it read: "Evolution is an adult fairy tale"--UGH! But hey, free country, free speech. Just hope they don't get upset if I pay money to put up a sign that says "God loves the Gays" or "Without US, you wouldn't look Fabulous". Secondly, I must divulge my mother's reaction to the blog. While I was a tad hesitant initially about giving her the blog site, I relented to my better half, saying "Hey, this is me." Anyway, while I assured her a) you don't have to be gay to read the blog and b) there weren't salacious sexual details described, she went on her new MAC (yes she went to the dark side) to read this new thing called a blog. When I asked her what she thought she said that the whole gay aspect didn't bug her ( she did worry about blog readers from Iowa or Nebraska driving way out of their way to kick our asses) but the constant Christian bashing did. She felt I wrote too much about them negatively and she didn't like it. Well I was just responding to how I felt about them. There was no way of changing her mind (not that I want to) but I'm glad she actually took the time to read the blog and react to it. Can't change peoples' opinions ya know. Anyhow, she's still a fabulous mom.
For those of you who actually tuned in everyday to the blog, you may know my tirades about food along the way. Can you imagine how happy I was to eat a variety of fresh fruit and vegetables, decent wine, cheeses, fresh fish upon my return? Happier than a pig in shit to put it plainly. Looking at the picture, you can see what 2 weeks on the road can do to a person so you can imagine my joy at being back in my food and wine concious, multicultural enclave. Oh joy!! And the weather is so nice I can ride my bike. Plus I'm starting yoga to get some shape back into my body. Got to get swimming too. I mean those blubberasses in the middle of the US of A were a wake up call believe me. I'm happy to be back in my routine of oatmeal and tea in the a.m. getting up at 6 as the sun begins to ascend over Brooklyn and another creative day begins.
So I leave you with that for now. I must shower, shave and shine and go to do some work. Actually biking to school to do some clean up work and begin mural designing. Also going to chat with some fourth graders (recipients of postcards from the trip) about the BGRT (just leaving out the G part). Stay tuned for more news from the Big Apple!
PS: Check out the 26th Annual Sword Ale Festival in NYC this Sat and Sun. I'll be dancing around town with other sword dance groups so if you see people in strange garb weilding swords, stop and check us out. Yours truly will be dancing in Port Authority at 9:30 am Saturday, then 1pm at Jefferson Market Library and then the Staten Island Terminal (Manhattan side) around 3pm. Sunday you can see us around 2-2:30pm in the Brooklyn Museum of Art.

Sittin' in the morning sun...

2006-02-13T09:12:00.000-08:00

While the East Coast got battered by the biggest snow storm on record, I was flitting about San Francisco in the warm California sun; going from breakfast in the Haight to a stroll through the park to the Russian Festival and a walk downtown. As much as 6 yrs in Siberia has made this native San Diegan a snow lover, and I must admit I was wishing I was home for the big blizzard and shoveling snow, being in the sun for one more day was heaven! Hanging out with friends and having a mellow San Francisco kind of day was better than sitting in the Oakland airport with harried travelers. Ron, Melinda, myself and kids had breakfast with friends of theirs in Ron and mine old haunts--the upper Haight. Just 2 blocks from where we used to live on Waller and Stanyan, 15 years ago. We took a walk over to our old building and reminisced about the parties, the neighbors and the Sunday brunches where we used to throw the extra waffles or pancakes at unsuspecting passerbys. Oh the good old days.
Post brunch we strolled through the park over the the uber cool new De Young museum. Everyone (yes EVERYONE) was in the park enjoying the sunshine. Someone was conducting a mass swing dance lesson, babies were everywhere. After 6 weeks of torrential rains, people were happy to get out of the house. The elusive younger brother of Ron, Kenny, made an appearance in the park, taking a detour from his planned bike ride to be social. He and I grew up together too and he's been so evasive about hanging out. Having a Harvard MBA has made him a bit arrogant and snobby, but that shit don't fly with me. I remember when he was nerdy (and "f" but I won't utter that word). Why do people get themselves so wrapped up in work and schedules that they can't take time out to hang with old friends?? I mean wouldn't you drop things and make time for someone you know 20+ yrs and still consider a friend? I would.
Walked over to a street corner not far from the park and was picked up. Oh the eyebrows are raised now aren't they?? Well I was picked up by my friend Marion and off we went to the Russian Center for the 18th annual Russian Festival. Marion was the artistic director of "Neva" the Russian Folk Ensemble of the RC back in the 80-90's of which I was one of the dancers. We haven't been in the RC in 15 yrs. so it was fun to walk around reminisce, visit people we haven't seen in ages, speak Russian, drink vodka, etc. There was a hot band from LA playing, "Limpopo" a Russian band that takes folk songs and punks them up. Crazy guys and a lot of fun to watch. The little kids singing and dancing was really cute too.
During breakfast with Nico and Marie, we were discussing the differences between living in SF and NYC. Marie summed it up nicely, "New York is for the intellect, San Francisco is for the soul." I guess that is true. I always feel inside like I'm coming home when I get to San Francisco. Going over the Bay Bridge, I relax and just get into that SF vibe. The NYC intensity melts. I remember how fabulous it was living here 15-20 yrs. ago and I'm sure it would still be a fabulous place to live. I dream of owning a big old Victorian up in Ashbury Heights. Give me some time to earn some moohlah and I'll be there.
Saturday was a glorious day and Ben, Robert, Neil and I went hiking in Marin. A short afternoon hike north of Mt. Tam (Tamalpais for those of you out of the know) up to a peak for a picnic in the sun. Red wine, horseradish cole slaw by Robert and a delicious fritata by Ben-right out of a scene from "Sideways" really. Good friends, good weather, good times. What more do you need? Shoot me, I die a happy man. Now do all of our dear blog readers follow my example of how to enjoy life? If not, I think you should. Life gets so fast and we over schedule ourselves so that we can't take time out to just enjoy the simpe things that life puts on our path. We have so many choices which can overwhelm and disable us from making a choice (don't they have a pill now to help with this new ailment, Selectaphobia?). PLEASE NOTE: This is a hidden message of advice--Live, Live, Live!!! Just like Auntie Mame taught us so many moons ago.
So today, I'm going to attempt to get back to New York City. I'm excited, it's my first time on the much talked about JetBlue airlines. Can't wait to get my hands on that screen in front of me. Who knows maybe I can volunteer to get off the plane and get a free ticket. Remember--a missed opportunity is a terrible thing. A domani!

If you're going to San Francisco...

2006-02-11T10:04:00.000-08:00

Yes IF I'm going to San Francisco, I know what to put in my hair. Hanging in the East Bay, doing some wood working, a NIA class and partying with friends. When I lived in SFO in the late 80's, NO ONE lived in the East Bay, now everyone does because the city got so expensive. A bit strange to have to rely heavily on cars to get around.
My friend Ron and I have been working on some children's book boxes for the past few days. They will be wooden boxes for kids to put books in with animal faces on the front. We made templates from wood (pig, cat, dog, frog and lion) and put together a prototype. Now I'll figured out how to get these going back in NYC. I connected with my butch side as I sawed and sanded with Ron's power tools. I love big tools and look forward to putting together a shop in my basement one day.
The weather has been fabulous and it's shorts and t-shirt weather here since I landed. My imminent return home to Brooklyn has been postponed by one day since a big snow storm is blowing in and why rush back to be delayed by weather when I can have another day in the sun. My friend Danielle runs NIA classes here in the East Bay and I joined her for some stretching and aerobic work yesterday morning. After 9 days in Ol' Penske, my body needed some good stretching and I got it with Danielle. Nia is sort of like aerobics and yoga together. Afterwards we did lunch in the sun at an outdoor cafe and caught up on things. Danielle and I go way back to college where we studied Russian together at SFSU. We have been many places around the world Russia, Crimea, Argentina which has bonded us for life.
Friday night was Skipper's Hawaii 5-0 party. She's a friend of my friend Cam and lives up the road a bit. Now I knew I packed my blue shirt with the pineapples on it for a reason (the dress code was Hawaiian). It was her 50th b-day and I loved the Hawaii 5-0 theme--I'll remember it 9 yrs. Everyone was festively garbed, the highlight being the young, topless guy with a grass skirt walking around. When I found out it was Skipper's 14 yr old nephew, I put my tongue back in my mouth. The champagne flowed, the bong was toked, the food was plentiful--a great time had by all. I got in a heated debate about the education system in America on the balcony with Francis and Donna (another fellow NYCer) which expanded into other debates. Dane (Cam's boyfriend) and I giggled over the bizarre tasting beef jerkey home made by a guest. She proudly told us how she put hamburger meat in her dehydrator as we supressed our laughter. Kevin's chicken wings were the bomb and after a few hits of the old bongeroonie we were munching those down like crazy. Reflecting on my past week on the orad, I told my Hawaiian shirted party going friends of HST's penchant for Hawaiian shirts when he was on vacation with the wife and daughter in Key West. Did you know of the 33rd's Hawaiian fetish? Well let me tell you neither did they (but they do know!).
Rumor has it that a big snowstorm is headed New York's way so I delyaed my trip by a day this morning so I can spend a bit more time with friends in town and attend the Russian Festival at the Russian Center of SF. The RF was a big thing for me when I lived here mostly since I danced in a Russian Folk ensemble "Neva" which was based at the Center. It'll be cool to check things out and see who I recognize at the Festival. It always was a wacky event.
The sun is blazing here on Saturday morning and I'm getting ready for a hike up in Marin with Ben, Robert and Neil. More about that later. Meanwhile, got some work to do before I play. Mr. Alland has gone AWOL on me up there in Portland. I hope he hasn't got lost in all those moving boxes. Hey Matthew are you there darling??

The Day After the Epilogue

2006-02-09T07:44:00.000-08:00

The sun streams into the kitchen here in Oakland, CA. Oakland? What the fuck? How did Tom get here so fast? Yes we did say adieu to Ol' Penske, and then I said so long to Matthew and flew down to Oakland for a few days to visit friends and do some business. It was strange to fly on an airplane, over vast tracts of land instead of being on the ground, bumping over the highways, eating bad diner food and schmoozing with the locals. What tourist attractions awaited me down there? What American was the hottest of the day? Well, that's another BGRT waiting to happen.
I flew down to the Bay Area to work on a children's book box design with a woodworking friend of mine. I have the vision, he's got the wood and together we are going to make some prototypes to hopefully sell through TomCat Designs (my business). Yes, after 10 days of galavanting across the US, it's time to get back to work :(. But it's fun work, so I love it. I'll post pictures of my box (no pun intended) once it's done--so stay tuned. Now that I'm in this pattern of waking up at 6 am and writing on our blog, I have to keep it up--yes?
By the way, for the record, a. Matthew and I are just friends b. "Let's Go Roadtripping USA" is a crap resource for a roadtrip (we equally gave it a thumbs down. The Road Atlas was a better resource) and c. the 1999 Damron's Gay Guide to the US was still a pretty reliable resource (at least one of the bars listed in each place is still there, we don't know about all those cruisy areas the authours filled their guide with--we didn't go there).
Another by the way, I must reveal is THE TRUE AND UNUSUALLY BIZARRE STORY OF FLAT RAT. Yes, as promised earlier, the truth shall be revealed at the end of the BGRT and now that time has come. OK so here goes. Can you believe that in a house with three cats I could have a mouse problem? Well a year ago Lulu, my black cat, was catching mice in my house. Not a lot, 2-3 in all, but it was still weird that the mice were so dumb they didn't figure out there were 3 cats who could whoop their ass in my house. So, two friends from Russia came to stay with me for two weeks and slept on an air matress in the living room. Well, when they left, I did a full cleaning of the place, including rolling up the Turkmen carpets on top of which the mattress laid. To my shock, as I rolled up the rug, there on the floor was a completely flat and dried out mouse, aka Flat Rat. He was in such a position as if he were running and his tail was all wavy. As an artist, I thought this was really cool and had some artistic potential so I dropped him in a plastic bag and put him in my art studio. And there he sat until the inception of the BGRT. Now I know the majority of you thinks this is really gross but hey, the artistic process is a mysterious, intangible thing so go with it. I must add a proviso that this is the only dried animal I have polyurethaned and I have no intention of doing this to my cats when they croak or any other four-legged thing. Nor will I turn into some off shoot of Jeffrey Dahmer either--shellacing body parts instead of making a stew out of them.
Thanks for all your comments along the route and look forward to seeing more of your reactions...TT

Day 10: Epilogue

2006-02-08T17:59:00.000-08:00

Morning dawns in Portland, OR. Boxes litter the living room. Matthew is up early cleaning and unpacking in his new home. It is strange to not have to drive somewhere, see an interesting site, fill a truck up with gas. Laundry can finally be done, things unpacked and a new phase of life can begin.

The Big Gay Road Trip is done. Can I divulge that we ended in the same gay and merry spirit as we began the trip. No cat fights or big blow ups occurred (unlike the one we saw yesterday while the van was being unloaded. Tom was staring them down and ready to do some gay couple counseling right there on the street!) and our friendship remains intact. America is a fabulous place filled with warm and gracious people and we met a lot of them along our route. No matter how different we were to them, we were greeted with interest and a smile everywhere we went. Hell with such fabulousness, how could they not otherwise? It’ll take us each some time to absorb all we did and saw which we’ll post to the blog. In the meantime, we did compile our Top 10 Best and Worst Lists of the BGRT (see below). Although the BGRT is over, the blog lives on. Keep your comments coming and we’ll keep you updated on our activities on both coasts. Now it’s your turn to start your road trip. Don’t wait too long for the opportunity, start planning now. Matthew and Tom look forward to hearing about your own private BGRT. Love, hugs, kisses and peace…MA and TT

MA and TT’s Top 10 Best of the Best List

Best Tourist Attraction

Palace of Gold, WVA

Best Country Song

“Sarah Beth was scared to death” by Rascal Flats

Hottest of the Hottest Americans

Michael-KY (MA’s choice) Jabe-SLC (TT’s choice)

Best Gay Surprise

Wichita, KS

Best Hotel Chain

Best Western Hotels

Best Church Sign Slogan

“Give Satan and inch and he’ll be a ruler”

Best Tour Guide

Leah (aka Lee)—Maker’s Mark Distillery, Loretto, KY

Best Truck Rental Company

Penske (of course!)

Best Phallic Symbol

Louisville Slugger, KY

Best Patriot Act Performed

HSTPL, Independence, MO.

MA and TT’s Top 10 Worst of the Worst List

Worst Road

I-84 in Idaho

Worst Gay Bar in the US

Radio City, SLC, UT.

Worst (and Dumbest) Waitress

Jamie at Denny's in Evansville, IN.

Worst Hotel Chain

Econo Lodge

Worst Patriot Act Performed

Lincoln’s Log Cabin, KY.

Worst Violation of Separation of Church and State

Roadside America, PA.

Worst Pin up for a Healthy America

Obese man in Louisville, KY

Worst Buffet

Gateway Travel Plaza, Breezewood, PA.

Worst Role Model for a Gay Son

Mom at the Trapp, SLC, UT.

And still the Worst President Ever…

George W. Bush

Day 9: On the trail of Lewis and Clark

2006-02-08T09:25:00.000-08:00

Goood Moooorning Baker City!! Up at 6 and ready to roll, the dynamic duo was ready to roll on down to Portland on their last day of what has been a grand road trip. Matthew didn’t sleep well during the night but Tom did get a good night’s sleep. In any case we packed Ol’ Penske and moseyed over to the busy Oregon Trail restaurant for our breakfast. Please note: If you stay at the Oregon Trail Motel, you get $1 off any breakfast at the OTr across the parking lot. Adorned with truckers in the booths and the counters and stuffed fish on the wall from John Brown’s Taxidermy, the restaurant was cooking along with activity. The center of this activity was Pam, the perky waitress running around taking orders, pouring coffee and sassing with the local diners. When asked by one of the diners why she was so perky she replied jokingly, “Prozac, honey!” She was a bundle of fabulous energy and got us in a cheery mood for our last day on the road. After some cajoling we got her to pose for a picture for the blog.

During the packing, Matthew noticed a gash in the back tire of the truck. Lo and behold across the street was Lew’s Tires so Matthew did a grand job of parking on the wrong side of the street if front of the store to have the guys check out the tire. The guys joked with him as he came in, saying his parking job violated a few Federal Laws. A tall, strapping man at the counter came out to inspect the gash and told us we were OK to drive. As Matthew listened intently, Tom drooled and photographed the event for posterity (and what a posterior it was!).

In the day time, Baker City seems to be a cute little town with shops, cafes, a movie theatre and lots of tourist attractions to keep one busy. Hell, if the Lew’s Tires guy was my husband I’d be happy as a pig in shit to live here. But I digress… Looking in the free Visitor’s Guide, we got the low down on the local history of this part of Eastern Oregon. Oregon Trail is the mantra in this part of Matthew’s new home state with markers and museums celebrating this chapter of American Pioneer History. Speaking of markers, we did literally stopped on the highway (don’t worry no one was behind us) to take a pic of the 45^th parallel sign. Yes we were at the 45^th parallel—halfway between the Equator and the North Pole. Who would’ve thought such a momentous marker would be near a place called Powder, OR.?

Our first stop of the day, and our only tourist attraction of the day, was in Pendleton—home of the Pendleton Wool Mills. Pendleton, for those of you who don’t know, is famous for its wool products, mainly their everlasting jackets and blankets. Over a century old, they’ve been spinning out high quality wool goods from this mill. Another interesting fact is their working relationship with local Native American Indian tribes at a time when it wasn’t done. We barreled in and asked for a tour which we got immediately instead of having to wait an hour. Oh, the joys of traveling in January! Debra took us through the actual mill, the three of us: Matthew, myself and another woman. Because it is so loud in the place, you have to wear a walkman like device to hear Debra spin her yarn on the wool. It was a great tour. We loved looking at the entire process from spinning the wool, spooling it and blanket weaving. Matthew was ecstatic and snapped away each step of the process, while Tom asked meaningful questions about the process, unions and outsourcing. Post tour, we went to town in the store buying up blankets, pillows and jackets at factory prices. An hour or so later we said goodbye to Debra and headed on our way to PDX. Please note: MA and TT highly recommend this tourist attraction if you happen along the Northeast corner of OR.

After the fabulous wool experience we decided to make no more stops (except for gas and lunch) and get on to Portland. We moseyed on up to the Boardman on the Columbia River and had lunch at the fabulous Riverside Inn. With a view of Lewis and Clark’s pathway to the Pacific, Matthew and I were served by charming Erica a lovely lunch of fish and chips and enchiladas. There were some hotties dining along side us, but they were having a power lunch and ignored our lunch etiquette appropriate cruising. Our eavesdropping skills detected they worked for the big wood mill up the road we passed which spewed steam and smoke. They harvest poplar trees for wood chipping and now furniture making. The trees are planted all along the highway in rows and makes for a cool site. A photographer would go crazy shooting up the forests.

For the last 6 weeks it’s been raining nonstop here in Oregon but it seems the arrival of Matthew has brought warm, sunny weather and everyone is rejoicing. That’s all they talk about actually. Everyone we talked to mentioned the weather. After lunch we motored along side the spectacular Columbia River as it wound its way to Portland and the Pacific. As we got closer and closer to our end point, we realized that the trip was actually coming to an end and we began to reminisce and remember all the fun we had over this past week. We have a special Best of the Best List for our readers so stay tuned for that. We’ll hash out our list before Tom flies on to San Francisco tomorrow.

We arrived at 3:45 pm PST in the NW section of Portland. Upon leaving the truck, Tom kissed the sidewalk ala John Paul II. Watching this spectacle were the first Portlandians we met; Jared and Paith (it’s a Welsh name darling!). They welcomed us and we schmoozed with them and told them of our trip as we all walked to the corner. Nancy (the super) was there to greet us at 2315 NW Overton Str. She went over all the paper work with MA as Tom snapped photos of this new stage of his life.

Things couldn’t have worked out more perfectly upon our arrival in PDX. Matthew arranged for the movers to meet us at his new abode and we had Ol’ Penske unloaded and returned by 5:30 pm PST. It was sad to say goodbye to our yellow friend but all good things had to come to an end. The Penske guy thought we were a little strange getting all verklempt over a truck but OP meant a lot to us and became like family. We walked back to Matthew’s place, piled high with boxes. Matthew had everything meticulously organized and could find anything he needed thanks to his handy spread sheet. We did have a time finding Box 62, but after a massive hunt, it was found, mislabled as Box 63. Evan, Matthew’s first Portland friend came over and took us on a tour of the hood (where to shop, etc.) before heading off to a delicious meal at Besaw’s on 23^rd Str NW. It was heaven to have a nice bottle of wine, healthy salad and entrée, well cooked and sumptuous desserts followed by Sambucca and espresso. Oy for 8 days we’ve been craving this and finally got it!! The open road is a fabulous thing but the food sucks!! That’s one thing one must remember before heading out cross country. Tomorrow wll be our recap of the BGRT and our last posting on the road.

Bests of the Day

Perkiest Breakfast Waitress

(Pam at the Oregon Trail Restaurant)

Hottest American of the Day

(Jake at the tire shop in Baker City)

Best Attraction of the Day

(Pendleton Woolen Mills)

Acronym of the Day

PDX= Portland, Oregon

Day 8: Utah(o) NO Idaho

2006-02-07T22:46:00.000-08:00

If you don’t get the title of today’s posting, I’m not going to explain it. Any way our penultimate date started in Mormon Ground Zero and ended along the Oregon Trail in Baker City, OR. Penultimate for those of you rubes who don’t know, it means second to last day of the BGRT. Now most of our penultimate was spent driving with no tourist attraction stops (hell there weren’t any and we wanted to cover some road), but there still is something to write about.

The breakfast buffet at the Marriot Residence in SLC was THE place to be yesterday morning. Besides the hotel guests, the FedEx guy stopped in for a bite after picking up deliveries and one of the denizens from Radio City (the bar from last night aka The Worst Gay Bar) who couldn’t give us directions to this part of town. There she was perusing the bagels, eggs and bacon. We decided after taking advantage of some healthy breakfast options to visit a bit of SLC, so we marched up to Temple Square to the Family Research Center to trace our roots. After driving through red state after red state, we were tired of all things religious so we opted for the non-Mormon part of Temple Square. We were greeted by friendly female missionaries from all over the world. While Matthew asked for directions to the Family Research, Tom schmoozed “po Russkii” with Sister Pavlova from Russia. It turned out she was from Ekaterinburg where Tom used to live so we had a lot to talk about. But Matthew was not having it and cracked the whip and on we went to the FRC, escorted by two lovely missionarites from the Phillipines and Moldova. Interesting to think that these girls were sent from their respective home countries to Ground Zero of Mormonism to stand out in the chill to proselytize. We think of Mormon missionaries from Utah going out into the world to pass on the faith not the reverse. Let it be known that after all his overseas living, Tom finds the Mormons to be the nicest people out of all the religious zealots he met in Russia. While he doesn’t agree with their beliefs on many issues, they are the warmest, kindest people. Interesting to note it must have been girls day at the Temple, we didn’t see any Mormon boys in the missionary position. They must have known we were coming and hid them.

The Family Research Center proved to be a plethora of information about our families. Those lovely Mormons have thought of everything to ensure the entire universe’s redemption and entry into heaven when Armageddon comes (if ever). With a click of a mouse you can find out about your entire family going back generations. Matthew and I were able to trace back to our roots and actually found out loads of information about our families, searching through censuses (censi??) and other public records. It was quite exciting to print out documents with our grandparents and great grandparents’ names, their ages , occupations. Sister Samura from Japan, a young missionary, hovered over us to make sure we knew how to research properly. She apologetically told us we had to pay for each page we printed and demurred the cost—5 cents! So we printed away and left them the change from a dollar to boot. As Tom attempted to find where great grandpa Frank was born in England, Sister Samura started the slow road to conversion. We had a little tete de tete regarding a Prophet, Jesus and religion while Matthew fervently researched away between phone calls to his parents. The debate got a little heated and Sister S got the message FINALLY that she was barking up the wrong tree and left Tom in peace to research away. Sister S sulked away to browse her Bible and calm her frazzled nerves. A few minutes later, Tom got chatting with Sister Wilkinson, a charming elderly lady from Boise who was one her first day of work at the Center. She was bummed at the fact that she couldn’t find herself in the records. I told her it took awhile, but I found myself and encouraged her to keep digging around. We had a nice chit chat about our road trip, what to see on the way to Boise and Portland, etc. She kept touching me on the knee and shoulder during our talk and while it wasn’t offensive to me I wondered if she was secretly saying a prayer to cast the homosexual spirit out of me or something every time she did it. Yes, I was fondled by a Mormon but just not the correct gender or body type, but she meant well. Before we left the FRC, Tom got chatting with another charming Mormon, Elder Kingman who pointed out a unique display behind the Joseph Smith display. Basically some zealots of the Church had as lot of time on their hands and figured out how many famous people in the world were related to JS, the founder of the Mormon religion. Alec Baldwin, Queen Elizabeth II even our own idiot in the White House (along with a few other former idiots in the WH) are indirectly, 5 times or 7 times removed cousins. While interesting, it came across as a load of hooey to me. In the meantime, Matthew was being hit up by Sister Nmbide from Ghana. That didn’t last too long and we were on our way out the Temple door.

Now I must comment on the wackiest thing in Salt Lake City that we came across. One can cross the street in the middle of the boulevard, but to ensure that you will not be hit by an oncoming car, there are day-glo orange flags you can carry across the street. When getting to the other side, you place said flag in a bucket. Well you can imagine the camp value in this and, of course, these two gay road trippers did some fabulous flagging not only across the street but down the sidewalks all the way back to our hotel. It was a mini Fag Flag Parade. The locals looked at us with strange looks but we didn’t care. Matthew got into the flag waving so much that one of them mysteriously wound up in the back of the truck.

By 12:30, we had tired of SLC and itched for the open road so off we went up toward Boise. As we zoomed up the highway, we scanned the movie theater marquees we passed for any sign of “Brokeback Mountain” or “Trans America”. This was in reaction to Larry Miller’s ban of these films at his theaters in Utah which caused outrage among gays and non gays everywhere. For those who don’t know, Larry is the owner of a movie theater chain and the Utah Jazz. Despite the ban at his theaters, seems everyone in town saw these films anyway. Did we note yesterday that we roared into SLC on the final day of the first annual Gay/Lesbian Film Festival??

Along the way we dined at the Country Kitchen restaurant at the Flying J truck stop at exit 378 on I-84, FYI. Matthew flounced in with his computer bag on arm with strange glances from the waitress but we melted her with our enthusiasm and excitement of the good looking buffet. This buffet wins hands down the best buffet we’ve been to on the trip. Everything was fresh, well stocked and delicious. The Flying J attached to the restaurant was, however, voted most over merchandised. Shit was everywhere; shirt racks, vending machines, stacks of window washing fluid. Even in the bathroom! Ugh! One could barely move in there. Post buffet and posting of the blog, we were on our way. Please Note: T and A and Flying J Truck Stops always have wireless internet access at $1.95 an hour, for those of you inspired by the BGRT to take your own trip.

Many of you dear readers may be wondering what’s up with FlatRat. Well I can divulge information about our pal. You see at a stop in Point of Rocks, WY. our rodent friend hooked up with a local Jackalope named Shari (named after the well known restaurant chain these parts). Well you can imagine how a half rabbit and pent up flat mouse carried on while we got gas, had a few cups of coffee and waited for them to stop. Matthew was getting a little impatient and gave FR an ultimatum: it’s us or her! Personally, I think this sex starved foul mouthed flaming hetero rodent was tired of tagging along with two fabulously witty, effervescent gay men and, yes dear blogophiles, we left our dear friend in Point of Rocks, WY. to pursue a deep and meaningful relationship with a Jackalope named Shari. So if you pass these ways, stop at the gas station in town and ask around for these two fun-loving furry friends of ours.

The drive up into Idaho from Utah is really a sight. Mountains dusted with snow surround you as you drive on over vast open space after vast open space. What do people do out here? How exciting are their lives/ Are they happy? What do they do for fun? Whoop it up in Boise? I guess we’ll never know because we just hightailed through the Spud State. As we sped on, Tom noticed that we had done over 3,200 miles on the spedometer. We did stop for gas in Jerome. Tom was suffering from PBBP (Post buffet bowel problems), so he was a bit preoccupied while Matthew pumped (gas that is) and bought the ugliest magnet of his BGRT magnet collection. Tom did all the driving today and after his time in the bathroom and big cup of mint tea, he was ready to get through Idaho and into Oregon. Matthew popped his Ipod on and took his afternoon nap while Tom floored it on through Boise and into Oregon.

We arrived in Ontario, OR. around 7 pm and stopped for more gas and a shopping trip at KMart for some household items Matthew needed for our imminent arrival in his new home. Can I tell you a secret? Tom left his deodorant in the EconoLodge back in Breezewood, PA. and to date has yet to buy a new stick. Now some of you may be going “EWW!” but really you don’t sweat so much in February. But miracle of miracles, he broke down and bought a stick of Right Guard at the Kmart (see pic for proof). I highly recommend stopping off in places like Kmart in random places just to do some people watching, schmooze with the locals and add a little sparkle to their ordinary lives. To think two fabulous guys from New York, driving across the country, stopped in their town, at their Kmart. That just makes their day. Please note: If you do try this on your personal road trip, MA and TT suggest you stop at a Target or Kmart NOT a WalMart.

Carry on my good men! And so we did all the way through the curvy road to Baker City, OR.—a major town on the Oregon Trail. Not much going on after 7pm in Baker, as we found out by driving around looking for a hotel. We rested our heads at the Oregon Trail Motel on a chilly Monday night. Nothing open for dinner, we stayed in, preferring to watch a Lifetime Original movie (“One Night Only”). Tomorrow we awake to our final day of a week-and-then-some road trip. It’s been a great time full of laughs, fun and little drama or spatting. But I won’t get all emotional now, you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.

Bests of the Day

Best Load of Hooey

(Bozo is descended from a Mormon Saint)

Best Waste of Tax Payers’ Money

(Flag waving in Salt Lake City)

Best Sunset

(On the road in Idaho)

Tom’s joke of the day:

Q. What do you call an easy-going person from Idaho?

A: An Idawhore

Day 7: In search of Matthew Sheppard on Brokeback Mountain

2006-02-06T09:00:00.000-08:00

Woke up to a Salt Lake City morning and the first thing that I saw, was Bozo trying to read a speech on CNN. (This makes more sense if you try to sing it ala Joni Mitchell’s song). Oy, what a way to start a nice day in a semi hung over state. But with my back to the TV, I can focus on more pleasant past times like writing about our adventures yesterday and eating healthy things like oatmeal and fresh fruit--a rarity on the road the past few days.

Yesterday started out at Exit 240 on I-25 somewhere north of Denver. I crossed the street from the Best Western (our hotel chain of choice) to update our blog in relative peace at the Starbucks only to find it filled with over caffeinated “barristas” screaming at me and everyone else that came in. I huddled in the big plush chair in the corner and wrote but my communion with the muse was occasionally shattered by a screech up front. Quite a change from the most pleasant Starbucks I encountered along the way in Breezetown, PA. Matthew had us on a time schedule and rightly so because we had to cross up over the Rockies today and Lord knows what kind of weather we’d hit along the way so we wanted to get an early start. So we nixed the Celestial Seasons Tea Factory tour down the road for the open highway. Next stop Laramie, WY.

Facing 50+ mph winds, blowing snow and ice spots here and there, we slowly made our way up to Cheyenne and then on the Laramie. While our minds were filled with fantasies of gay cowboys, those all fell to the wayside once we got onto the road. There were some hairy, blind spot moments, but we crept up I-80 without any real problems.

When we got up to Laramie, the winds were a bit less, clear skies and sun and roads for the rest of the day. Our Plan B of getting stuck in Laramie or Rock Springs didn’t happen and we were able to press on. We did stop in Laramie for two reasons: Matthew Sheppard and the Laramie Plains Museum. We drove into town hoping to find one or both of the sites but nothing, I mean NOTHING, was going on in Laramie on a Sunday. Plus it was Super Bowl Sunday which everything was closed. Well almost everything. Shari’s (Denny’s type eatery) was open and we popped in for lunch to get the low down on the desired sights to see. The whole staff was rather clueless about both a Sheppard memorial and the museum. But when pressed we found out where the site was where Matthew S. died (east side of town). Since they were vague about its exact location and we worried about weather along the way, we decided to carry on the road. Our consolation to these closed sights was the mysterious rainbow blotch in the sky which followed us along our way. Was this nature giving us a sign? Was this hallowed homo land? Or am I just trying to make symbolism from a natural phenomena? Whatever, it made for some interesting diversion to a long drive across the Continental Divide. We did attempt to see the Frontier Prison museum somewhere along the way in a small town but that too was closed. Tom wanted to buy some fireworks (they’re legal in WY) to relive a boyhood tradition of road tripping with his mom and brothers on their way to Michigan in the summers but couldn’t find a one that was open. That fuckin’ Super Bowl!! Anyway, I digress. We just drove today, not much happened until we got to our destination—Salt Lake City.

After a day in Ol’ Penske, we were determined to go out and meet the local guys and have some fun. So how do we find them you ask? Well we use the universal method of finding out the gay scene: go to one bar, get the local rags and chat up the bartender on where to go. Never fails. Pulling out the 6 yr old Damron Gay Guide, we pulled off the highway to find Radio City which looked promising. We parked the truck outside and went in to this dive of a gay bar. Matthew got the local paper and we sat at the bar to get the lowdown on where to go. Being a Mormon town, not a lot is open on Sunday, especially bars. Of all the gay bars we’ve been in, this goes down in our books as the worst gay bar. We didn’t know if it was gay or transient. Either case, the crowd was ugly. Matt, the bartender, told us to head to The Trapp—the happening place on Sunday night. Where is it Matt? “I don’t know, I live in Ogden and drive to work and home”, he said. So we asked Delano, a guy from Yonkers recently relocated to Ogden for school. He didn’t know. “I always take a cab.” We asked someone else—THEY DIDN”T KNOW!! These people seemed to not know their ass from a hole in the ground! So we figured we just get out of there and find it ourselves. Please note: One of the denizens who didn’t know where the bar was has appeared this morning at the breakfast buffet here in the Marriott. Doesn’t know where the west side is my ass, no shes scamming off the buffet!

Salt Lake City is on a strange grid of North, South, East, and West probably radiating out from the big temple. It’s a bit confusing at first but we figured it out (with a little help from a gas station attendant) and found Trapp on the west side of town. Once we found it, we went to step 2 of our method. Find a hotel nearby where we can leave the truck and walk. The west side of town is pretty swank and recently developed with a mall, hotels fancy eateries (dead as a door nail on a Sunday at 7pm though) and it wasn’t too hard to find a Marriott up the block. In a matter of moments of checking in, we were ready to meet the locals. We walked the 5 long blocks to Trapp (walk in Salt Lake? They don’t do that apparently) only to find out they carded. Well Matthew was prepared with his ID but Tom, being 41 and not expecting to be carded ever in his life had to walk back for his ID. I guess it’s Utah law that you must show ID (blah blah blah). Also this was listed as a private men’s club with membership. When we first read that, we thought it meant it was a sex club but in Mormon country, it means, if you serve hard liquor you must be a private club and charge for membership. So $5 for membership and a $3 cover—most of this goes to the city government. Didn’t know Mormon could create a Mafia-like racket did you? Anyway, amid the hullabaloo at the door, the door lesbo forgot to take our money so we got in for free. Matthew has temporary membership for 3 weeks if anyone is headed this way. By the time Tom got back from the schlep to the hotel and back, Matthew was friendly with half the bar. He had planted himself at the back bar where the very cute Jabe was pouring drinks. Please note: Tom votes his butt the cutest butt seen on this road trip. Do you agree?

We met a myriad of locals and out-of-towners while we drank Bud from Mason jars (Tom opted for Maker’s Mark Manhattans—his drink of choice). Matthew chatted up the bisexual Uruguayan couple slurping down Long Island Iced Teas while Tom talked with Dana who just flew in from Chicago. Dana comes to SLC for business and opts to hang out at the Trapp. One reason was for the guys and secondly which came more apparent was his hunt for Coke (not the drink—duh!). So that seemed more important to him and he went off to find his dealer Chris. He and Shane were trying to get us to go next door to the disco to find Chris but we opted to stay put and flirt with Jabe.

No sooner did they leave did a trio noisily sidled up to the bar. A mom, her gay son and an aunt were ready to party some more. Mom was making most of the noise and got pretty racy. Matthew went over to chat with them and wound up instigating a few mother/son competitions involving a beer bottle (need I say more?) Mom was more than racy, she was plain nasty and her poor son was red as a beet. Auntie laughed loudly and sipped her White Zinfandel (ick!).

As the evening wore on, we decided to head back to our hotel before we turned into pumpkins at midnight. On our 15-min. departure, we met Daniel a charming local man whose partner, get this, is the keyboardist for Air Supply! We loved that fact about this handsome SLC-er, it made us very excited. Matthew welcomed a bunch of girls into the bar as Tom ordered a pizza before leaving the bar. Matthew just hugged and kissed them as if they were old friends. Daniel asked how we knew these girls and I said we didn’t—Matthew is just friendly. After a few slices of pizza and Match Game 74 on TV it was time for bed.

Here it is the penultimate day of our road trip. How long we have gone, how many experiences we’ve had. It’s a bit sad to know the road to Portland is getting shorter and shorter, but all good things must come to an end. But enough of that, there’s still much more fun to be had.

Bests of the Day:

Best Ensemble Performance

Hottest American of the Day

Best Bar To Avoid in the Country

Word of the Day:
Denizen

Day 6: Toto, I don’t want to be in Kansas anymore

2006-02-05T19:13:00.000-08:00

The muse of writing is a tricky woman. Erato (is that the one?) comes to you and your fingers and you write away. Sometimes it is difficult to intone her wisdom for the sole purpose of writing your blog entry. Such was the case this morning as I awoke in the comfortable confines of the Hotel Broadview, aka the Radisson in downtown Wichita. Actually the whole day was a flip flop of our regular routine. Matthew was up first and showered while I slumbered. MA had intoned AH this fine morning and had be showered, packed, breakfast buffeted and on the road by 9:30.

For those of you who don’t really know Kansas, the most happening stuff according to the locals is in the northeastern corner of the state. But we were determined to prove that theory wrong and headed out on 96 West to our first stop of the day: The Barbed Wire Museum in LaCrosse. Frontal headache blocking my creative flow, I picked at the keys to write our blog entry while Matthew sped through podunck town after podunck town. Here we were in the heart of the heartland and let me tell you, there ain’t a whole lot going on except that Ole Time Religion. I was a little slow this a.m. due to my headache and didn’t photograph every odious church or abortion sign I saw, but my favorite church sign quote of the day I did jot down: “Give Satan an inch and he’ll be a ruler.”

It would take a lot of time to count every church in every hamlet we passed as they are ubiquitous. In almost every town you are greeted with a Pro-Life sign. No “Welcome to Armpit, KS” sign or “Honk if you haven’t had an abortion”. Crosses, Pro-Life billboards, eagles, US flags, yellow ribbons—UGH!! It’s all too much. Variety and alternative forms of thinking need to be splashed all over this part of our country—give these folk something else to discuss and think about. But I digress…

Tourist spot #1 was closed! Our excitement at learning all about barbed wire at the BW Museum housed at the Barbed Wire Association of Kansas was short lived. The consolation prize was being able to see and touch (ouch!) a large ball of barbed wire. Some local drove up and talked to us for a bit (he’s building a bank museum next door). Very kind man, thanked us for driving all this way and apologized for not being able to open the museum for us (our secret wish). No worries, off we sped to I-70 up the road and headed west. We felt compelled to see something in Kansas before hitting Colorado so we busily looked on our map for the red dots near I-70 to see what was available. We both agreed on the Prairie Museum of Art and History in Colby.

On the way, we decided to find some lunch. Matthew liked the sound of the town Wakeeny so we stopped at ‘Nobody’s Diner’ for an uninspiring lunch of hamburgers and grilled cheese sandwiches which would send any NYC food snob into a dither. The apple and cherry pie though was really good and the waitress and locals smoking at the counter were very friendly. Now you know my penchant for schmoozing, so I milked the cashier and chain smoking, coffee slurping locals (they looked like a Dianne, Marge and Vern) what there is to see along the way. They suggested stopping in Oakley (Annie’s home?) to see the 6-legged cow and largest prairie dog. This got us excited and we were no sooner tanked with gas and speeding toward Oakley.

Along the way we saw signs for the place which also included a zooful of raccoons, badgers, opossums, peacocks, etc. Suddenly my headache alleviated and I was in full BGRT mode again. I hate to disappoint our readers with this following statement: The place was closed! Strike 2 on the tourist attraction.

Strike 3 was not happening at the Prairie Museum. We wanted our attraction goddamnit!! Well we got it and let me tell you dear readers, the best came last. We LOVED the Prairie Museum of Art and History from the welcoming kitty on the hay bales out front to the charming lady who ran the place. If you’re passing through western Kansas, stop at this way cool museum. Besides the museum of artifacts, antiques, dresses, pictures of prairie life, they have actual houses, a church, schoolhouse, peat house and barn on the property filled with actual stuff you can touch, sit in, write on and get an authentic feel of life on the prairie.

All these building were moved from other places to the museum property and the barn claims to be the largest barn in Kansas and was moved to its spot in one piece. An engineering feat that impressed these two jaded NYCers. Matthew enjoyed playing house in the farmhouse circa 1930’s while Tom felt at home in the old schoolhouse reading lessons to imaginary students and leaving an ad for our blog on the chalkboard.

The museum looks like a giant antique store filled with old crockery, porcelain, clothes, toys, dolls, jewelry collected from families in Kansas. My favorite part was the alphabet display of things sorted by letter. So in the “B” window there were books, a bear, buttons, etc. Great for kids.

May I digress for a paragraph please? May we tell you how much we love Delilah? Who is she you ask? She is Miss Fabulous of the airwaves as we travel across the U. S. of A providing love songs and comforting words for people throughout the US. We love her and her non-judgmental advice she gives to call-ins before playing their love song request. As we drive west, we search for her on the airwaves—she’s fabulous. Another item to note, which is a part of any road trip, is Road Kill. I have noticed the most smashed animals on the road side are raccoons, opossums and skunks while a few foxes, coyotes, dogs and cats have been seen. The poor things never learn do they? Well, fortunately we haven’t hit any. So on with the saga…

We left our tourist attraction of the day very happy and decided to attempt the impossible at the truck stop oasis—get an Internet connection and post our blog at the Starbucks. A Starbucks out here in Colby, Kansas?? Who would know? Matthew edited my writing and uploaded photos while I walked around checking out shops and schmoozing. I had a nice talk with an elderly gentleman upstairs at the antique store about vintage crockery and teapots. My gaydar was going off a bit with him and he was very attentive to me as I perused for interesting teapots. He was busy trying to close shop so I said goodbye with a wink and a smile and headed for the Oz Gallery next door. What’s a trip to Kansas without some W of Oz paraphernalia? I thought I’d find something interesting but it was all crap you can get anywhere. Not even a postcard. Matthew found the server was down and was disappointed with his Caramel Frappuccino so it was time to click our heels and get out of Kansas.

Despite all of its crazy conservative ways, I enjoyed the drive amid the flatness which is Kansas; farmland that goes on forever, old barns and windmills stand silently, the colours of the fields and the sky inspiring to any artist. I felt I was in a Thomas Hart Benton (one of my favorite artists) painting and understood where he got his inspiration. Matthew plopped his iPod on and snoozed as we quietly drove across Kanorado—a small town denoting the border between 2 states. He took control of the wheel at our first gas stop in Colorado and carried on until we decided to call it a night off exit 240 on I-25. We forwent a night out in Denver with a quiet night of catching up and resting so we can get over to Salt Lake City to whoop it up with the Mormon boys. We found out also that the first ever Gay/Lesbian Film Festival has been going on in SLC and finishes Sunday night so there’ll be something going on for sure. Now we know you’ll tune in for that!

Bests of the Day:

Best Attraction

Hottest American of the Day

Best Dump of the Day

Day 5: In the Merry Old Land of Oz

2006-02-04T19:38:00.000-08:00

Even though Matthew was against it, today’s entry will be done looking through the prism of the Wizard of Oz. Hell, you gotta make Kansas fun some how right? So here goes. I got to Kansas City on a Friday, by Saturday we were done and through with this big city and whooping it up with the boys of Wichita. Please note “Oklahoma” reference. Being a R&H fan I felt compelled. But I digress a bit…

Since DC decided to extend the Patriot Act, we decided to have a peaceful protest to it by performing our own Patriot Act today—a visit to the Harry S. Truman Presidential Library (further noted in this blog as HSTPL) in Independence, MO. Matthew has never been to a PL before and since it was on the way, we decided to stop. (Tom has been to the Nixon Library in Yerba Buena, CA). Matthew got us in the mood by performing excellent elocution on the HSTPL brochure. We were very impressed to learn so much about the 33^rd Prez of the US of A and all the trials and tribulations that went on during his 8 yrs. in office. He came across to us as a no nonsense president who actually had some integrity, unlike Bozo (aka – G.W.B). Where have all the good leaders gone?

Matthew was most impressed by the miniature White House on display (but got ill at the mini portrait of Barbara Bush) and Tom creamed his jeans over the giant mural painted by Thomas Hart Benton. Matthew was in high queen mode which concerned Tom a bit not only given our location but also it didn’t seem apropos at a Presidential Library (which is why Matthew was in full gear). He had to have a talking to in regards to his method of bag holding upon leaving HSTPL. Another highlight was booing George and Laura Bush during the White House film which ruffled some senior feathers in the audience, but fuck ‘em. We paid our respects to HST and Bess at their graves, bought some souvenirs and carried on to Kansas City, MO—BBQ capitol of the world. Have you been to a Presidential Library? Please comment on your experience.

By the time we got out of HSTPL we were starving so we made a bee line to Arthur Bryant’s BBQ on Brooklyn Ave in KC. It wasn’t long before we had a bunch of meat in our mouths (literally) and man was it good. One could spend all week BBQ-ing here in KC, but we had time to visit just one place.

In Kansas we made a detour to visit an Afghan student of Tom’s from his summer job in Kyrgyzstan. For those of you who don’t know, Tom runs an English language camp for Afghan high school kids in Kyrgyzstan during the summer. This is a US funded cultural exchange program called YES which helps promote mutual understanding between Muslims and Americans. 40 high school age students were selected from allover Afghanistan to come live with American families for one school year. The kids are placed in homes throughout the US (one just happened to be placed with a family in Emporia, KS.) Prior to coming to the US, the students spend one month at a summer camp preparing for their year. They have English language classes, cultural orientation and other life skills necessary to be successful in the US.

So I felt compelled to make a detour off I-70 to visit Simin and her host family in Emporia. Her HF is a mixed, Iranian father and Kansas mom (Grace and we can’t remember dad’s name) and were very gracious and hospitable. Simin was very excited that we made this detour just to see her. It was also a nice splash of culture and diversity amid the drabness and omniChristianess that is the state of Kansas. Over dinner on the floor—Afghan style, Grace revealed that the uberodious Rev. Ralph Phelps is based in Topeka. Well, we were ready to drive north instead of south to run him over with Ol’ Penske but we didn’t want to soil the car with his nasty homo-hating blood. Matthew commented on how delicious the food was and Grace, the host mom replied, “Honey, I didn’t get this size for nothing.” Grace was on to us and our plans for partying in Wichita (our next stop) and indirectly told us where to go once there (as well as telling us to be careful once we got there). She pulled up a chair for Matthew as he reshoed upon our departure, perfect for His Majesty and he savored the moment and is still talking about it. Next stop Wichita!

Ha ha ha, ho ho ho and a couple of la-di-das. That’s how we spent our night away in the merry old town of Wichita. Our plan of finding the boys and the booze in town was to find a bar listed in the outdated Damron’s and hope it was still there. So we hunted down the T-Room, now called Trends and proceeded to chat up people to get the lay of the land (no pun intended). No sooner were we sipping G&Ts and beer than Travis the bartender gave us a gay map of town and Don, a 32 yr. old interior designer, had sidled up to us to find out why in the hell two NYCers were in Wichita. He said we had a certain “je ne sais quois” that made us stick out from all the locals and he had to come over and find out where we were from. Although he was little negative about Wichita in general (maybe because he just broke up with his BF on Monday), he still provided us with mega-helpful information about the gay scene and even pointed us to a hotel where we could park the car and walk to some bars. Matthew seemed enamored by Don while Tom had his eye on Travis. Had there been a place to plant our truck and luggage for the night, we would have stayed here all night and blogged something today our parents would have been embarrassed to read. Instead, we found the Radisson in Old Town, parked the car, showered and hit J’s bar.

We had a great time at J’s, meeting the locals until closing time at 1:45 am. Tom went into schmooze and blog promoting while Matthew flirted and photographed the local boys. We even had a private semi-strip show by George. I call it semi because he didn’t do anything past loosening his belt. He didn’t go further even when teased with the prospect of being on an internationally read blog (poor thing didn’t know what one was).

Now while all this was going on, I was trying to pigeonhole people into my grand inspiration of the Wizard of Oz prism but it wasn’t going anywhere. We did have a munchkin walk into the bar so I did feel a bit vindicated. While I further contemplated who would be the Lion, Scarecrow and Wicked Witch of Wichita, Matthew got chatting with Ken, a 47 yr. old principal. Ken was very friendly and touchy, maybe because he was celebrating his birthday. Rod and his boyfriend came over and soon we had the low down on gay life in Kansas. We were a bit surprised how open a principal (Ken) and a teacher (Rod) were out here, but I guess that’s just our stereotype of this place.

We snapped away getting together a collection of candidates for Hottest American of the Day, feeling we let our fans down the day before. At last call Tom got chatting with Bryan and Matthew, two young college students at WSU. They were very charming and in awe of meeting two New Yorkers who were staying at the Radisson. They gave us a ride back to our hotel, a bit shocked that we would consider walking back. On the drive back, they kept dropping hints at wanting to see the rooms at the hotel but at 2 am, nothing was going to happen so we kissed and hugged them goodnight. Please note: Matthew and I love hanging out with the local guys wherever we go but we are not digging their smoking habits and the smell of our clothes the day after. A lovely aspect of going out in NYC which should hit the MidWest soon.

As we carry on our BGRT, we are more and more mortified by the amount of churches and abortion billboards. The dearth of variety outside of the Christian church community makes us wonder what one does if they aren’t Christian or they want more than this. We ponder this question daily as we continue on our way. We have been compiling a collection of abortion billboards and we must say there is at least two in each town, on the way in and the way out. We have consider paying to put up billboards denouncing homophobia and celebrating diversity as we ramble through the vast fields of the heartland. See you all tomorrow for more adventures from Matt and Tom.

Bests of the Day:

Best Friends

Hottest American of the Day

Best Attraction of the Day

Acronym of the Day:

HST = Harry S. Truman

PL = Presidential Library

Day 4: Bourbon, Lincoln and the St. Louis Blahs

2006-02-03T07:20:00.000-08:00

The sunrises over Exit 208 off of I-70 somewhere in the middle of Missouri. Continental breakfast is being served here at the Best Western 70 Inn—winners of the Best Housecleaning Award for 2005 FYI. The men in the breakfast area eye the lap top with suspicion. I quickly open Windows so they miss seeing our RT screen wallpaper icon—Rusty Joiner. As we approach Ground Zero of homophobia, I begin to worry about these things a bit. I guess we have to turn down our FABULOUS meters a notch or two. Actually at the present moment I’m more concerned about finding something of nutritional value at the breakfast bar than being lynched by a bunch of Missourian gay bashers. But I digress, excusez moi.

Matthew and I had a lengthy discussion yesterday about my comment in yesterday’s posting about heteros. He thought I came off as too militant and I disagreed. Even if I was, I have no qualms with rocking the boat and stirring up some healthy debate. What do you think? Please let’s hear from you, which brings me to my next boner to pick. MA and I live for your comments so please double click on that word “Comments” and respond right there on our page. PLEASE NOTE: You do not have to bat for our team in order to post a comment. You just have to know how to double click and type—so get on it!

We’ve noticed some of you have commented that Tom is doing all the writing on the blog and Matthew is not writing anything. Let me explain our routine. Being the early riser, Tom does all the writing for the previous day while Miss Matthew gets a little extra beauty sleep (Lord knows he needs it!). After I write, Matthew edits the entry, edits and uploads the pics (to make us look our best) and all the other technical modifications needed to make our blog look so professional. So you see this is a joint effort and is working out very well.

First stop today: The Maker’s Mark Bourbon Distillery. Winding down south from Louisville, we passed the Jim Beam, Red Rose and Heaven Hill distilleries. Yes, we could have stopped there, but why bother when you only drink Maker’s Mark. So we wound and wound down those Kentucky country roads passing boring little town after boring little town, Jesus and Mary statues strewn everywhere among those damn deer lawn ornaments. In one small hamlet I noticed a big grave marker coming into town that read “Creativity—RIP”. You catch my drift? No wonder these people are so religious, they have nothing else to use their brain for. Would a giant dose of glitter and glue change anything? Would making them fabulous change anything? Who knows, hell it’s worth a try.

We found the organization “Billboards for Life” have been busy out here posting big billboards against abortion along the roadside. For more info check out their site: www.billboardsforlife.com. Well, if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em right? Well we did by listening to Christian radio most of the day (Hell that’s all we could pick up anyway). We actually rather liked it. Good tunes, sucky lyrics but overall not too odious if you understand when singers refer to “His love” “Him”, etc. they ain’t talking about some hot dude like our boy Rusty. Christian music is a lot like the genre of Country but with boring lyrics, no cheese factor involved here.

So after an hour of debating about hetero bashing and winding roads, we found that distillery we were searching for. We ran to catch up with the tour that just began—with another couple from Chicago (and an Accenture employee from DC, just like Matthew was a few years ago). Boy we were really impressed with this tour. It was a realio-trulio tour of the distillery where you can stick your finger in the mash (literally-no pun inteneded) and taste in as it ferments in 100yr. old giant oak barrels. I think Matthew was a bit skeptical of taking this detour but was so excited about being able to experience bourbon making first hand. Always planning ahead, I prepped for this trip by drinking MM the night before at our new favorite gay club Q in Louisville. Leah was our sassy tour guide and she was immediately elevated to Best Tour Guide of the Day (see below).

The joy of going to touristy places in the way-off season is that they let you do things that probably don’t let you do like go into the printer’s room (where they make the labels) instead of looking at the ladies from the outside. We got to pose with the ladies who dip the bottles in the red wax—the unique trade mark of Maker’s Mark.

More exciting, after our tour by Miss Thang, we got to dip our own bottles (literally—no pun intended). Looking so butch in our red aprons, safety glasses and big rubber gloves, we dipped, spun and stood (the 3 steps to getting the wax to drip just right). Of course it’s all in the wrist so it was a piece of cake for these two afficiondos of wrist flipping.

FlatRat, by the way, is a Maker’s Mark guzzling rodent and after the tour joined the MM Ambassador Club, giving him special privileges if he promotes the hell out of this fabulous bourbon.

We gave Leah and the Chicagoan couple our blog site so they can check out the review of our tour. As Leah was wrapping her brain around the idea of a blog and the title of it, we reassured her that you don’t have to be gay to read it which got a giggle out of her. The Chicagoans assured us they were cool with the whole gay thing by saying “Oh yeah our gay neighbors are watching our cats.” Huh? Well, gotta love ‘em—we parted and sped off to our next tourist attraction of the day and Matthew’s passion—the Lincoln Birthplace Memorial.

This was our Patriot Act of the Day. As we drove to this next destination we began to worry more that we’d never get to Portland, let alone get out of KY. I think we’ll be OK, we may have to pass up some sites along the way in order to get to Portland by sometime next week. Who knew Middle America could be so much fun?!?!!?

Hodgenville, KY—the birthplace of the 16^th Prez where the L word isn’t lesbian (but should be)—don’t make me spell it out please. So the whole log cabin thing is true and they have a “symbolic” log cabin enshrined in a Masonic-esque granite building honoring this recently outed famous American. Why they didn’t fight to preserve the actual one is beyond me. After the 20 yr old film about Abey boy we made out way up to the shrine which was very unimpressive. So instead of lingering, we got in Ol’ Penske and sped off toward IN, IL and MO. We couldn’t leave without suggesting to the staff that they update the film and writing our blog address in the guest book (yes I’m the shameless promoter).

Through the driving rain our homo heroes sped along just wanting to get to another state by the end of the day. Since we would be in IN for a brief moment and needed a magnet and postcard (a requirement for each state), we stopped at a Denny’s for a quick bite and an encounter with the Dumbest Waitress of the Day; Janie. She provided us with two great quotes: when ordering a Diet Coke, she asked Matthew “Do you want Diet or a Coke?” and when asking if she had cranberries to go with my turkey and stuffing dinner she asked me “Do you want cranberries?” I held back my best Brooklyn response and just answered “Yes” as politely as I can. Oh darling blog readers it’s hard getting good food along the road. Is it too much to ask for a glass of Shiraz, Mesculun salad and a nice cheese? Something other than burgers, fried mozzarella sticks and fried crap? But I digress…

Well we flew through IN and IL, next stop St. Louis. Our initial plan was to stop here, check out the gay scene and carry on the next day. Well, we cruised the gay area (in our bright yellow Penske) suggested to us in Damron’s (the gay travel guide) but it was dead as a doornail. The bars and streets were empty so we said “Fuck It” and carried on. Now I’m sure there are some fine men here in Ol’ St. Lou but we didn’t see a one. This was most upsetting because by 10 pm we did not capture on celluloid one Hot American of the Day. Instead of forcing the issue, we are upholding the integrity of such a prestigious title and not doling out the H.A. o. t. D for Day 4. I know this will send shockwaves throughout the blogosphere, but real integrity is hard to find these days.

As I watch a drab couple say grace over a Styrofoam bowl of cereal, I wonder where all the fabulous people are and how far we must drive to find a bit of colour. We’re saving our next gay outing for Kansas. So stay tuned for that!

Bests of the Day:

Best Tour

Best Disappointment

Best Scary Right Wing Signage

Acronym of the Day:

RJ = Rusty Joiner

Word of the Day:

Lincoln

Day 3: Viva Spontaneity!

2006-02-02T07:48:00.000-08:00

Slurp, slurp, slurp goes the sound of the milk bottle of baby Rae here in peaceful suburban Louisville on a woozy Thursday morning. Why are we here? Well, let me tell you (I’ll get to the woozy part in a bit).
During our planning lunch last month, Matthew’s friend from college, Shannon was one of the people to visit along the way. She resides in the East End section of Louisville, the very posh part of this beautiful town. Initially we were concerned leaving our big 16 foot Penske in front of the house thinking the neighbors would call the cops and have it towed because they thought we were thieves or basically that it was an eyesore amid the well manicured lawns and stately homes on the block. Well, looking outside this morning, it’s still there so I guess they are more tolerant than I expected.

Today was the shortest drive of our whole road trip—1 hr. From the Arctic Cave at the Wildwood Inn to the East End and that’s as far as we got. The original plan was to do lunch with Shannon and head on our gay way but things turned out differently. Since Matthew hasn’t seen Shannon in two years and his first time seeing the adorable 1 yr old Reagan (I won’t reveal whether she was named after a dead Republican or a girl who was possessed by the devil), we decided to linger in Louisville and spend the night. PLEASE NOTE: When presented with an opportunity to spend more time with a dear friend or tackle the lonely open road, pick the former not the latter. Ergo the title of today’s blog. Yes we were spontaneous and decided around 4pm that we were going to stay the night, take Shannon out and give her a break from motherhood. And what better what to give a straight girl a break than by a night out on the town with two homos.

After a tour of the house and some oohing and aahing at Miss Cutie Pie, we headed off to the Standard Country Club for lunch. I must admit here that this was a big juxtaposition for me. Doing lunch with two Jews at a country club was a little strange for me because all the country clubs I knew about growing up never allowed Jews or Blacks. It didn’t bother me too much really but it was interesting that this thought came up at all. I guess we are products of our upbringings, but whether we act on the negative aspects is a different story. Anyway, let’s get back to the story…

Now Matthew and I aren’t keen on big city attractions, preferring to spend time driving down small country roads to see the more interesting stuff but Louisville has a lot to offer. Homos aren’t used to thinking about sports as a rule or get too excited about football or baseball, but we did get pretty pumped about going to the Louisville Slugger Museum. Looking at the picture I know you’re thinking “Yeah those queens were just turned on by the bat out front,” and yes we were. But it was fascinating to see them put a big, thick block on a lathe, press a button and voila, you have the envy of every Little Leaguer.

Of course the sexual innuendos arose throughout the tour causing perturbed glances and smirks from the other tourists and staff. Post tour and obligatory magnet and postcard buying, Matthew and I did a little phallic worship outside—we couldn’t resist that long, hard rod sticking straight up to the sky in the middle of downtown Louisville. It’s every size queen’s ultimate fantasy and keeping with today’s blog title—why the fuck not!

So after our obeisance to the big woody, we needed some culture and headed to the Folk Art Museum across the street. It was an OK museum. I especially liked the 3rd floor exhibit of the Scholastic Arts winners for Kentucky. Being a judge for the Scholastic Arts Art Contest in NYC, I had to take a look at another states’ competition. For those of you who don’t know about this, the Scholastic Arts contest is an art contest for junior and high school students throughout the country. Gold Key winners are selected for each state and then go on to DC for the national judging. Post 3rd floor exhibit, we met David downstairs in the gallery store. My gaydar was buzzing loud and clear with this one so I went into schmooze mode with him while the Matt and Shannon and little Rae Rae browsed. I got the lowdown on where to go out in this town from our fabulous ambassador to Louisville gaydom. When I brought up Woody’s, he kinda sneered so when pumped for options he recommended Q right down the street. And lo and behold Wednesday was karaoke night at the Q so we started plotting getting Rae to sleep and Daddy to baby sit while we took Soccer Mom out on the town.

On the way back to the house, Matt and I performed our Patriot Act of the day—a visit to the Patriot’s Peace Memorial. We’ve decided to perform a Patriot Act each day. PLEASE NOTE: Our Patriot Acts do not involve wire tapping, secret arrests or harsh, threatening rhetoric.
L&N was our dinner choice-- a lovely wine bar/bistro where we ate and drank up a storm, let our hair down and helped Shannon remember that while motherhood is a big part of her life, she still can have fun as an adult. We had some rather racy conversations over white wine sangrias and cheese fondue and it seemed right when we got to the most graphic details, the waitress Jennifer would come over to the table and catch bits and pieces of our ear burning yakking. I won’t bore you with details of our delicious meal (shrimp and grits, mussels, salmon infused, reduced and all that) for in the end, it was just food. I was just happy two friends could reconnect and we could have a fun night out and forget about babies for a while.

Feeling good after our sangrias and bottle of wine, we headed down to the Q to check out the local boys in their natural environment. I was a bit surprised to find people smoking in a club, but it was OK since no Chelsea-esque attitude snarled off the lips of the tobacco puffing hotties. In no time did we have a drink in our hand, meeting the locals and flipping through the pages of the song list to decide what to sing. I couldn’t convince Shannon or Matty boy to get up and sing so I represented our group on the karaoke stage. Hearing some of the hatchet jobs that were taking place, I felt compelled to get up there and show them my stuff. My first song was “Piece of My Heart” done in my best Janis screaming voice which got those Louisville boys hooting and hollering. Before, during and after my song I filled in the locals on the BGRT (Big Gay Road Trip—duh!) and shamelessly plugged the blog. By then end of the night, www.biggayroadtrip.blogspot.com was on everyone’s lips. It’ll be interesting to see how many check out our site today, that is if they remember once their hangovers clear.

Michael, the charming and adorable karaoke host kept the singers coming up and had everyone dancing and singing along all night. According to Deb and Tina, the lesbian duet singers, Michael has a great ass. We tried to get him to show us but he was being coy and didn’t give in to our pleas. Even when we promised him international recognition via our blog he did not give us a booty shot. What are ya gonna do?

We did get Michael to agree to push me to the head of the long karaoke waiting list for my 2nd song (Captain and Tenille’s “Love Will Keep Us Together”) in exchange for world wide fame on our blog. Little did he know he would wind up being Hottest American of the Day too.

So after Derek, one of our new local friends, did a rendition of “Fever” that has Peggy Lee still spinning in her grave, I got up and evoked my best Toni Tenille to more whoops and hollers, ending with another shameless blog plug. I must digress for a minute to tell you of my last karaoke event for which I won the Best Karaoke Singer of the Night, last year at this time in Rosarita Beach in Baja Ca. Mexico. I’m sure they are still talking about my rendition of “Twist and Shout” sung in my Eartha Kitt voice. Now I can go on about my international experience as a karaoke singer from China, Uzbekistan, Las Vegas, but let me get back to the story. PLEASE NOTE: Tell us about your best karaoke experience and be eligible to receive nothing really but maybe a postcard.

Before my second appearance at the mike, I made a plea to all the homos out there to be a good friend and baby sit for their straight friends with kids now and then so they (the heteros) can go out and have a good time too like they all were having there at Q. Yes why is it that so many breeders lose their identities when they have kids? That’s all they can talk about and their kids become the center of everything. They are still intelligent, fun-loving people who need to be reminded of that now and then. So to all you gay boys and girls out there w/o kids, do your friends a favor—take over domestic duties for a night, or more and make your friends, who you know from college days or other days as fun loving party animals to go out and kick up their heels. Not only are you doing your part to maintain healthy relationships between husbands and wives but also you help give little kids a bit of fabulousness that may be missing in their everyday lives.

Back in our comfy beds in the glorious East End, I reflected on the day and how good it turned out for us all. While Matthew and I are a bit nervous of how long the trip is going to take (not the week as we thought) it’s important to remember the Golden Rule of road trips: “It’s not about getting there, it’s about what’s along the way.” And with that said, I must get ready for our first stop of today: The Maker’s Mark Bourbon Factory.

Little known facts: Did you know that Tom met the mayor of Louisville in Perm, Russia (one of L-ville’s sister city) in 1996? TT made the faux pas of saying the “S” in Louisville, only to be immediately correct by hizzoner. (The Russians say the “S” when saying Louisville).

Bests of the Day:
Phallic Symbol of the Day

Hottest American of the Day

Best Gay Ambassador of Louisville

Acronym of the Day:
KY (abbr. for Kentucky but you guys can figure out the comic value of this one)

Day 2: The Waitress, The Memorial and the Palace

2006-02-01T07:45:00.000-08:00

I wake up on Day 3 in the Arctic Room feeling like Tilda Swinton as the White Witch in “Chronicles of Narnia”. I wrap myself up in the king-sized blue bed cover and storm around the room yelling at imaginary minions. Matthew is sound asleep and doesn’t hear a thing. Well, let him sleep, I’m off to the breakfast room in the lobby of the Wildwood Inn in gloriously podunck Florence, KY to write of yesterday’s wanderings. I forgo the white-trash breakfast offerings of Wonderbread, Hostess Donuts and sugared cereals for a simple cup of tea. The Early Show blares at me and when I find myself alone in the room, I quietly shut it off. The only thing that disturbs me is the 10 Commandments posted in a big frame above the coffee and Frosted Flakes. I’ll just focus on the computer screen.

Morning began in the best Starbucks in the US. Run by charming, non-caffeinated older ladies in the truck stop oasis on Breezewood, PA. Our morning ritual is that Tom gets up and writes the blog and Matthew sleeps in and uploads it with pics later. We met up for breakfast at the Gateway Travel Plaza where Nancy was our fabulous waitress, keeping those coffee cups filled. There was a mini brouhaha in the kitchen which was caused I believe by Matthew’s wallpaper on his computer—a picture of a brief clad Rusty Joiner, model and Matthew’s ideal man. Nancy was friendly with as everyone has been so far. She divulged to us that she isn’t fond of Starbucks coffee but her sister travels 16 miles each day from Everett to get a Frapuccino—imagine that!

We were on the road by 11:30 with Tom cracking the whip about not stopping until we got out of PA. Do any of you realize just how frigging long this state is? Is it the longest state in the US? Somebody be a dear a Goggle this for me. This fervent drive to get moving earned Tom the Acronym of the Day: AH (stands for everyone’s favorite evil dictator of the 20^th century recently spoofed in “The Producers”).

Of course this fervency melted a bit when we looked on our road map to see what sites were along the way and the first MUST SEE was the Flight 93 National Memorial, about 15 miles off the PATPK. When we asked how to get there at the toll booth, the cranky lady said “I need your $4.75 first” and then proceeded to hand us a pre-printed slip telling us how to get there. On our way to the middle of nowhere in Western PA., we did pass the place where all wrecked cars go—acres and acres of trashed cars of all makes. We were motivated to take this detour not only because it may be the only time we’ll ever see it but also because we watched the terribly acted made-for-TV account of Flight 93 the night before at the Econo Lodge. Basically the site is a big field with a flag on a fence off in the distance where the plane actually crashed. Not much to see except the shrine of service patches and ballcaps, religious artifacts, plaques, etc. to the 40 (only 40 people on that big plane) who died that day. They have big plans for this space as we were told by the Ambassador, Kristin, in the small hut that serves as the temporary Visitor’s Centre. The poor thing sits in there all day long with no space heater freezing her ass off. I wanted to run to the local liquor store and get her some bourbon to keep her warm. We met Carl a trucker from Tempe who would have been Hot American of the Day had we taken his picture. 10 mins. later we were on the wide open road to our next destination—The Palace of Gold in West Virginia.

The Palace of Gold is noted on the road atlas but we found no note of it in our “Road Tripping USA” guide (we officially give a thumbs down to this pseudo guide—500 pgs of poorly researched drivel). No one seemed to know about it along the way and even though it was getting late, we proceeded down a small, windy rural road to the mysterious Palace of Gold. In our minds we were expecting to find an old man who collected gold coins or something and had them paneled all over his house or it was WVA’s Mormon Temple. Boy were we blown away to find in the middle of the State of Shacks (Matthew’s term for West Virginia because every house looked like one), down a 4 mile road in the middle of nowhere this huge Hare Krishna temple!

Before getting out of the truck this won Best Attraction of the Day and later garnered the other top 2 awards of the Day: Hottest American and Best Tour Guide. The photos can attest to just how fabulous this place is and quite a juxtaposition to the Bible-thumping, overtly Christian areas we’ve been traveling in.

We got up to the Palace door to find it locked but there was a phone under a plastic bucket (reminded me of Bruce Wayne’s bat phone) and a number to call for a tour. Before we could dial the number, someone was calling us looking for Julia. Matthew couldn’t help her so he hung up. We rang the number, left a message and decided to leave after a few minutes of looking around. As we we’re getting in the truck, up drove our tour guide Pramadini, a friendly middle-age lady who lives down the road. She gave us a personalized tour of the Prabhupada’s Palace of Gold. Now who the hell is Prabhupada? Well he is the founder of the Hare Krishna’s and is responsible for their proliferation throughout the world. You know the one’s who run around in pinks and peaches singing “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna”. Well it was a refreshing change from all the Christian dogma we’ve seen along the way and quite a juxtaposition to yesterday’s patriotic/religious display at Roadside America (please note: “juxtaposition” is our new favorite word).

While no photos are allowed in the Palace of Gold, Pramadini let us take some snaps since we made the trip all the way out in the middle of January in a big Penske truck. Take a look pretty fuckin’ fabulous yes?? In the middle is the temple which houses the altar with Prabhupada’s lacquered remains. Yes, he died 2 yrs prior to the completion of the Palace (in ’77 for you youngins’ who don’t remember). So they embalmed him, put him in lotus position and dipped him in lacquer. Well you can imagine how ecstatic FlatRat was to see another lacquered dead person and was immediately ready to convert to the Krishna cause. It took some time to calm him down and get him back in the truck but Pramadini gave him a copy of the Bhagda-Gita to read along the way. We left the Palace of Gold in awe, happy we made the schlep out to the middle of nowhere. It made up for the Patriot Act we performed earlier in the day.

Much to our horror, our Penske truck is only equipped with a radio so we are left to the choices on local stations along the way. We opted to listen only to Country music yesterday and came away from that experienced laughing and a bit scared to think people actually listen and believe in the crap values they sing about. I jotted down some of my favorite lyrics along the way and here they are:

“Tequila makes her clothes fall off”, “Drink a D Margarita” (what the fuck is a D margarita??), “She think’s my tractor’s sexy”, “Sara Beth was scared to death cause the doctor just told her the news”, “When a screw was a screw and the wind was all that blew, I miss back then.” And “Walk a little straighter Daddy” (was this a warning from a homophobic son or a plea to an alcoholic father? It was the latter FYI).

Now I’m sure Kraft has a stake in Country music because the cheese factor is so high. The genre is filled with melancholic drivel of poor people trying to make it, jilted women raising kids alone, proud patriots, the joys of children and wives (blah!) eagles, flags and God. Oy, it’s so nauseating and gave me insight into what is so fucked up about this country. All in all, we liked listening to the twangy tunes all day, laughed at the corny lyrics, ughed at the fascists ones and look forward to another day of Country as we rev through Kentucky and Missouri.

We plowed through Ohio in the dark so can’t report much on it except that gas prices were good, $2.19 a gallon and we liked Cincinatti. Got into the Wildwood during Bozo’s State of the Union which we groaned loudly at, getting a glare from one of the desk clerks and a sympathetic “I’m from Ohio” from the gay boy checking us in. We dashed into our much awaited Arctic Room which totally lived up to our expectations. I tried out the hot tub while Matthew ordered pizza, downloaded daily photos and cursed the asshole in the White House (aka George W. Bush). I must say the Arctic Room was way cool (no pun intended) and I must say it would be a great place to take mushrooms. Just looking at the walls almost gave me a flashback. So now we’re ready for more adventures on Day 3 of the BGRT. See you tomorrow…

Bests of the Day:

Best Tour Guide

Hottest American

Best Church Sign

Acronym of the Day:
PATPK = Pennsylvania Turnpike
AH = Adolf Hitler

From Jones Street to Breezewood

2006-01-31T07:41:00.000-08:00

Saying Goodbye to Jones Street. Ryan Darling (yes that’s his name) packed up the truck early Monday morning and at 10:55 on the Jefferson Market clock we were on our way to the Holland Tunnel and the beginning of Matt and Tom’s Big Gay Road Trip!!!

We breezed through New Jersey and made our first stop The Crayola Crayon Factory just over the border in Lafayette, PA. Much to our chagrin the factory was closed but we did have our first road trip lunch at Perkins and captured on film the Phallic Symbol of the Day. Wouldn’t you agree that’s a big one? And to imagine it’s there in the middle of town for all to see. Flat Rat got into some trouble at the Crayola Crayon store for nibbling on the crayons and we got kicked out of the store. It’s OK, we weren’t too impressed by a huge store full of Crayola crap anyway.

Next stop was the highlight of the day: Roadside America, the greatest indoor miniature village. This man from yore, Laurence Gieringer, began building miniature houses, churches, theatres, coal mines, etc. since he was a kid and didn’t stop until it took up the space of an old bowling alley. He added trees, electric trains, people, animals, cars, bushes, waterfalls and even a few goldfish. Let me tell you we were very impressed. A nice man takes your money and a charming old lady (she looked like a Helen so I’ll refer to her as Helen from now on) goes behind a curtain to flip the ancient switches which makes this fabulous miniature world come to life. Trains whiz all around, a little boy twirls around as his kite flies in the air, animals move at the zoo, fountains spray water in the air. Press a button and watch the trolley car go, a balloon soars across the ceiling, a man saw wood.

Old Larry was very detail oriented and didn’t miss a thing. Right now is the quiet season and the staff spends their time taking everything out and giving it a good cleaning. The piece de resistance came at the end when Helen instructed us to go the second tier viewing area for the Night Show. As she busily clicked and flipped switches, this peaceful mini world illuminated as she dimmed the lights. Angelic voices could be heard over the speaker and suddenly I felt as if I was God looking down on Bedford Falls in “It’s a Wonderful Life”. On the wall overlooking this scene is a giant mural of the Statue of Liberty with a lit up crown and Old Glory which gets a spot light and a gust of air to make it look like it’s waving in the breeze. This is where Roadside America gets a little scary or campy depending on how you look at things (Matthew and I found it high camp). Like a flash, angels appear on either side of the S of L and up pops a slide of Jesus right next to her as Kate Smith sings “God Bless America”. We had a good laugh over this twisted display of patriotism. I schmoozed with Helen afterwards about the whole display while Matthew began his US States magnet collection in the gift shop.

In addition to the miniature town and psycho-patriotism, Roadside America has on display outside the ugliest Amish couple I’ve ever seen. Take a look and you be the judge. Now I know I’ve seen these 2 in a film before, anyone remember? Was it “Groundhog Day”? Let me know, it’s bugging me.

Next stop Hershey, PA. Being January, the abusement park was closed bumming out these two rollercoaster enthusiast so we went to Chocolate World instead. Bum out #2, an innocuous, commercialized version of the true Hershey chocolate experience. A vast space filled with an artificial factory line, an IMAX movie theatre and lots of dumb shit to buy. The upside of this was a) it was free so we didn’t have to spend money on this shit and b) we met Hottest American of the Day: Milton. He was our chocolate facilitator for the ‘How Hershey Makes Chocolate’ film. It was the overalls and hard hat that won him the title hands down.

While Chocolate World sucked, the Hershey Chocolate Museum was very cool and we learned so much about our new hero, Milton Hershey. He was a pretty fabulous guy, making lots of money on chocolate and doing good things with it. He built houses for his workers, encouraging them to buy them instead of renting them, building orphanages and other charitable works. Did you know he made a deposit on a stateroom of the Titanic but never sailed? Close call huh?

In addition to learning about old Milty, we had our 2^nd Jesus sighting of the day. The Apostle Clock, an 18^th century clock with lots of little doors that open up to reveal various religious figures. Basically the clock chimes every 20 mins. And the center door opens with Jesus standing there as another door opens and the 12 Apostles parade in front of him and turn and face him when they get in front of him. 3 Marys appear out of a door on top to adulate. Our favorite figure was the devil who popped out 3 times in various places with his pitchfork to tempt and scare. At the end Jesus turns to look at him and he flies back into the bowels of the 10 ft tall clock.

Things ended a little embarrassing as Matthew was caught trying to mount a big Hershey’s kiss. FlatRat was rewarded with good museum behavior with a real Hershey’s kiss.

As evening was upon us, we opted out of the Outlet Mall and headed west, stopping for the night in glamorous Breezewood, PA. A truck stop oasis in the middle of nowhere really. We stopped for the night at the Gateway Travel Plaza full of burly truckers and sassy waitresses. Do you think we stuck out like sore thumbs?? A little. I could see opening a little cheesy piano bar with interesting cabaret acts—any takers? If you ever stop here, be afraid of the dinner buffet, especially the meatloaf—it had the texture of a pumice stone so if you want to exfoliate your tum-tum, be my guest. Aah NYC, home of fabulous cuisine and options.

Bests of the Day:

Best (and biggest) Phallic Symbol of the Day

Hottest American of the Day

Best Attraction of the Day

Acronym of the Day:

S of L = Statue of Liberty

Would you like to receive a postcard from the road? Send us your address at maandtt@yahoo.com and wait for your card. Don’t worry we won’t come visit (unless you’re close by ;).

Here we Go!

2006-01-30T05:02:00.000-08:00

Oh my God--the day is here. The bags are packed and we're ready to go (no Peter Paul and MAry song please). To get into the road trip spirit, I went to see "TransAmerica" Friday night and I'm totally ready. No not for a sex change but for a road trip!!! If you haven't seen this movie, go see it. Really good.
I don't know what awaits us on the Big Gay Open Road (Acronym of the day=BGOR) but we'll keep you posted and please comment. I found many of my friends are blog-illiterate and initmidated by posting comments. Don't be a lazy ass, let's hear from ya. And without further ado, next stop Oregon!

Arctic Cave

2006-01-27T07:42:00.000-08:00

So, as we get prepared to depart on Monday, I was getting super jazzed about our stay at the Wildwood Inn in Florence, KY. We will be spending the night in an Arctic Cave. I have never slept in a cave before, especially in KY.

I go, the cats stay

2006-01-25T21:01:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to introduce to y'all my 3 cats: Felix, Suly, and Lulu. Matthew leaves behind family and friends for new adventures and I leave my 3 furry friends behind for 2 weeks. I've been in a mood to photograph them while they sleep and got a few good shots. We all tolerate straight people talking about their kids, so you'll have to bear with a gay man and his "kids".

FlatRat gets ready

2006-01-25T20:51:00.000-08:00

While Matthew is busy over there in Manhattan packing and all, I've been busy getting ready for the big gay road trip. Actually I'm one of those last minute kind of guys so I'll pack on Sunday. Flatrat is getting excited about the big trip and tonight he had his pre-roadtrip bath. A FlatRat from Brooklyn may not do well in the fresh air of the open American Road and he could be misunderstood by many people we meet along the way so he was dipped in a special coating to ensure he stays protected.

Packing and Painting, and More Packing......

2006-01-25T12:50:00.000-08:00

I have been super busy packing and painting the past few days. My apartment no longer feel likes home and is all white. Yuck!!!! The boxes are stacking up and my spreadsheet is getting completed. This move is REALLY happening.

--Matthew

The Route

2006-01-25T10:47:00.000-08:00

So, the trip begins in a few days, and we have mapped out a route. Let us know if you are along our way, and we would love to stop on by, say hello, and get a free nights sleep?!?!?!

BROKEBACK – The Adjective

2006-01-25T10:33:00.000-08:00

Word of the Day (Details Magazine):

BROKEBACK --

adj. Descriptor for any activity performed together by two heterosexual men (e.g., brokeback brunching, brokeback shopping, etc.) PROVENANCE: Suburban cineplexes. USAGE: “Where’s Bob?” “Oh, he’s out brokeback bowling with Dale.”

The 16 Footer....

2006-01-20T07:44:00.000-08:00

This is the truck TT, Flat Rat and I will be road tripping in beginning on January 30th.

So, I went and visited our truck today to make sure that I got the right size; I did. It is a great yellow truck, will hold all my belongings, and will be super fun to drive. Ironically, as I returned home after the visit, there was the exact size Penske truck outside of my apartment being unloaded by movers. So, I chatted with them and they told me that this is the best size to get for a 1 BR apartment and that a 12 footer might do, but it would be a challenge to pack and I would probably have to redistribute my belongings in different size boxes to make it all fit. They recommended the 16 footer and reaffirmed what I just learned at the Penske lot. Now, all I need is to get a large heavy weight lock for the back of the truck and we are all set. This is getting exciting……

--Matthew

JEWS FOR HITLER, FAGS FOR BUSH

2006-01-20T07:26:00.000-08:00

This has nothing to do with moving to Portland, or a roadtrip or TomCat Designs, but is something that I have strongly agreed with and dialogued about for a long time –the Bush administration is practicing Hitler-proven tactics to govern and gay Republicans are oxymoronic, dangerous members of society. Read this insightful article on one of my favorite blogs, Proceed at Your Own Risk.

--Matthew

Acronym of the Day

2006-01-18T08:41:00.000-08:00

Acronym of the Day

TT = Tom Toomey

TT's $.02

2006-01-18T05:12:00.000-08:00

Greetings all,
Wow Matthew has beaten me at blog posts but it's OK, the move is all about him and his change in life. I am enjoying my change of life (and I don't mean menopause). Busy keeping focused getting my sheise together with TomCat Designs. Ready for printing tshirts and getting this ball rolling. Anyone know a good t shirt printer--that's reasonable. I went to see "The Chronicles of Narnia" (after a Magnolia cupcake of course;) with the 4th graders from my former place d'emploi and I was so happy I'm not there anymore. Everyone looked so haggard and stressed, and unhappy. Life is too short for such things! But I do miss the little nippers. I did get my business card done and to the printers now working on postcards to drum up some business on the road. Viva living the dream!!!
PS: Flat Rat asks how the fuck are you.

I am Moving Here........Oregon Assisted Suicide Law Upheld

2006-01-17T14:14:00.000-08:00

Great news from the supreme court today regarding an Oregon Assisted Suicide case.

The Supreme Court today blocked the Bush administration's attempt to punish doctors who help terminally ill patients die, protecting Oregon's one-of-a-kind assisted-suicide law. It was the first loss for Chief Justice John Roberts, who joined the court's most conservative members -- Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas -- in a long but restrained dissent. The administration improperly tried to use a federal drug law to pursue Oregon doctors who prescribe lethal doses of prescription medicines, the court said in a rebuke to former Attorney General John Ashcroft.
Learn more about Assisted Suicide and Oregon's policy:
Self-Deliverance Blog
Death with Dignity
Oregon DHS

This is where I am moving and I am proud. Go OREGON!!!!!!

--Matthew

Goodbye NYC Apt...Hello PDX Apt.......

2006-01-15T14:07:00.000-08:00

This is Matthew's kitchen and living area on 22 Jones Street. I loved my 'Outrigger Orange' kitchen and 'Poplar Island' room and will miss it.

WT's Travel to AMS in April...Now We Hit the USA

2006-01-07T08:56:00.000-08:00

In April 2005, Matthew, Tom and several others traveled to Amsterdam for a birthday celebration. Fun was had by all, and now it is time to EXPLORE America......

Acronym of the Day
WT = World Traveler

2006-01-07T08:42:00.001-08:00

Tom and Matthew in AMS

2006-01-07T08:42:00.000-08:00

Matthew and Tom in AMS

2006-01-06T22:02:00.000-08:00

Meet FlatRat! Stay tuned for his adventures across country and his tell-all true story! Being a NYC rodent, he swears a lot--don't take it personally

Roadtrip!

2006-01-06T04:19:00.000-08:00

Man do I love a roadtrip! I had many as a kid driving from San Diego to Northern Michigan with my mom and 3 brothers in a VW van. Traveled everywhere on the planet now it's time to check out the US again with another fellow homo. Don't worry, we'll mind ourselves in those scary states like Kansas and Wyoming. Look forward to your input as we head west...Tom
PS: Stay tuned for the adventures of Flat Rat, coming soon to this blog

The Adventure Begins

2006-01-05T12:52:00.000-08:00

POP.....went the champagne.

Matthew and Tom bust out the road map, the roadtrip guide and the Damron's. The planning begins.