LAKE LANIER, BUFORD GA

I arrived by “Greyhound bus to Atlanta” where I spent three days with my sponsor, and dear friend of eighteen years, Howie. He’s been living at and managing for the past year his brother’s marina outside Atlanta, in Buford, GA -- Lanier Harbor.

Lake Lanier has 700 miles of coastline and it’s about 45 minutes outside Atlanta. It accounts for millions of dollars of recreation revenue to the state of Georgia – and it’s a reservoir! Since boats are allowed on the lake, they have a large water treatment facility (many likely) near the lake that treats the water for public consumption.

Lanier Harbor houses approximately 400+ boats that can be pulled from dry-dock, put in the water, and be gassed and ready to go with a phone call. Sounds pretty good to me.

Howie has been my AA sponsor for eighteen years this month! Prior to this he was living for two years at Easton Mountain, a gay men’s retreat center in upstate New York State. Take a look at his MySpace profile for more on Mr. G.

We had a great time in Buford and Atlanta. Overall we just caught up. It’s always great to see Howie. He’s one of the people on the planet that knows me best. It’s always great to have a friend like that. Someone that you can’t hide from. Someone who knows your soul.

Howie, in the eighteen years I’ve known him, has lived in Boston, Haiti, Hawaii, France, DC, Rochester, Easton and now Atlanta. No matter where he goes we’re in contact. During his one-year stay in Haiti in the early nineties we sent a weekly letter to each other. I still keep those letters to this day. I was a young twentysomething kid just starting to learn about this world and my place in it. I’ve often said that I’ve learned more from this man than from my own parents.

Howie just passed the big 5-0, and as I close in (on December 15th) on my own milestone birthday I know our friendship will last thru this next decade and beyond. I love you Howie. Thanks for being in my life.

P.S. For those who can't figure it out, Howie and I are exactly 10 years apart.

TELFAIR MUSEUM, SAVANNAH

During my time in Savannah, I had my second visit to the new Jepson Center for the Arts at the historic Telfair Museum of Art (for fans of "the book" the Telfair is the home of the Bird Girl statue). I visited the museum with Donnie and Mark (my best friends and Savannah hosts), Tom (visiting from Provincetown), and Lenny (visiting from Asheville, NC). We had a great time… as you’ll see from some of my photos shot there. As for the museum, I’ll let their website tell the story…

Architect Moshe Safdie Designs a “Destination of Distinction” in Savannah’s Historic District

The Telfair Museum of Art opened its new 64,000-sq. ft., state-of-the-art building to the public in March 2006, ushering in an exciting new era for the “oldest public art museum in the South.”

The new building, the Jepson Center for the Arts, is the first expansion in the Telfair’s 119-year history and adds 66% more exhibition and educational studio space than previously available in the museum’s two c.1819 National Historic Landmark buildings in Savannah’s historic district, the Telfair Academy of Arts and Sciences and the Owens-Thomas House.

An Expanding Museum for a Growing Community

Designed by architect Moshe Safdie, whose Salt Lake City Public Library and Peabody Essex Museum commissions opened to much acclaim in 2003, the Jepson Center for the Arts features two large galleries for major traveling exhibitions; galleries for African American art, Southern art, photography and works-on-paper; a community gallery; a 3,500-sq. ft. hands-on gallery for young people; two outdoor sculpture terraces, education studios, a 200-seat auditorium, café, and store.

“Moshe Safdie has helped the Telfair achieve its objective of creating a dramatic, modern, accessible museum building that is also an important work of monumental sculpture. He has met the challenge of creating a building that is decidedly ‘of its time’ while complementing the beauty and character of the 18th- and 19th-century buildings that are Savannah’s hallmark,” said Dr. Diane Lesko, executive director of the Telfair Museum of Art, in announcing the opening.

“While Savannah has its feet planted firmly in the past, and that is the undeniable reason for its appeal to residents and visitors, it is also the fastest growing city in Georgia. Telfair exhibitions, programs, acquisitions of artwork, membership, and visitation have paralleled the community’s growth – we mount nine to 12 exhibitions annually and have twice as many members now as we did seven years ago, for example – so the Jepson Center will allow the museum to more readily meet the needs of a vital city.”

Covered with glistening white Portuguese stone and consisting of two separate structures connected by glass bridges over a protected lane that is part of Savannah’s town plan originally conceived in 1733 by Georgia’s founder General James Oglethorpe, the building has a soaring, light-filled atrium and sweeping, three-level staircase that provides access to its expansive galleries.

The Jepson Center has a total of 14,000 square feet of additional exhibition and studio space that permit the Telfair to mount temporary exhibitions that are considerably larger than has been possible in the landmark Telfair Academy. The Academy has been the museum’s principal venue for presenting fine arts; the Owens-Thomas House is a historic house museum and exhibits many works from the Telfair’s decorative arts collection.

SAVANNAH FOR THANKSGIVING

Savannah is always a place of decompression for me. I settle in. Donnie and Mark always make wonderful hosts. In fact, they’re more than hosts, they’re family.

The boys have lived in Savannah (by way of Key West) for 9 years now, and for the last five I have spent Thanksgiving with them (and one Xmas and New Years). The T-days have ranged from “bohemian” at their newly purchased but yet unfinished Tybee cottage…to now two consecutive holidays at their mid-century modern home in Savannah (with a couple Tybee holidays thrown in for good measure).

There is a thread of usual faces each year — Kevyn and Ken, Tommy, Lenny, often Karen and Clark. We have had other friends from Savannah, and a stray family member or two (Ken’s parents this year, Karen’s last).

I have to say that Bohemian – five years ago – was one of my favorites. Mark tells it best, but essentially we disguised a very rough and dirty new cottage with craft paper, potpourri, and about a hundred yards of fabric from the dollar bin at the local fabric store. Now the “Catfish Cottage” is a showplace, but back then it was studs, blueboard, and no sink. We literally brought in the stove just to reheat the sides!

Although Bohemian Thanksgiving will go down in the history books, I must say that this year being woken up (from my pre-dinner nap) by “MIDNIGHT TRAIN TO GEORGIA” blasting on the stereo is a memory not to be soon forgot.

Donnie and Mark are just settling back in to Savannah after sabbatical of their own. They just returned from sending 9 months in South America. Donnie, having sold his Land Rover before leaving for the trip just came back to buy a car on EBay –- a 1979 Mercedes. It’s a throwback for sure.

Overall Tday was very fun. We spent many hours playing Taboo and Rummy Cube (actually we burned thru the box of Taboo cards – both sides – during our four day weekend!). Yeah, you can say it, we’re madmen. LOL.

Well, until next year. I wonder where we’ll spend Thanksgiving in 2007? I know one thing for sure, DJ will be joining me on the next one. Can’t wait.

MIDNIGHT TRAIN TO GEORGIA

You would never believe this story unless it happened to you…

Yesterday I began a 2.5 month trip across country. Commencing in Albany, NY, I drove to Alexandria, VA where I spent last night with a good friend, Andrew, who works for the State Department as an architect. We had a nice morning. Breakfast. Photos of his 2.5 week trip to Africa. And I was on my way. 10:00 a.m. the day before Thanksgiving I pulled onto Route 95 headed south toward Savannah…

The coastal storm working its way up the coast was expected to cause some trouble for the Carolinas. Cautions were extended. “Drive safely” was what each friend said upon hearing of my day of travel.

Live sanely should have been the motto -– because what occurred was anything but sane.

Since you’ve seen the photo I don’t have to tell you that my darling love-of-my-life red VW is now wrecked. What you don’t know is how it came to be that it’s now sitting in a auto dump in Emporia, VA.

Simple story is that a -- READ IT HUGE SUV -- passed me on the right, pulled in front of me, and then within moments slammed on its breaks.

But the simple story is never the most interesting… I suppose what’s most interesting is how bizarre the last eight hours have been since that simple action occurred…to lead me to now sitting in Rocky Mount train station in North Carolina, about to board the 11:54 p.m. train to Savannah.

After the SUV slammed on its breaks, I reacted in turn. My brain said to pump my breaks (as I was driving on wet roads, and my VW unlike newer cars don’t have anti-locks). Well I may have pumped them once, but my instincts took over. I pounded my foot to the floor, grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, braced myself…and closed my eyes. When I opened them, the hood was not exactly where it had been previously (nor was my cup of coffee, my bags, my map, my ipod).

I don’t know exactly when it hit me. I stayed in the car for a while trying to comprehend the impact…literally. I grabbed everything off the floor of the car, including my overturned cup of joe spilling out thru a little hole in the plastic top.

The driver from the other car came over to my window to inquire if I was OK. I think at that point I got out of the car…I’m not sure. But eventually I climbed out of my car and saw the damage… The most distinct visual was all the green coolant gushing onto the street and into the gutter. My two headlights were smashed in, as was my grille, the radiator, my hood.

Earlier today I wondered how I got from the fast lane where the accident occurred, into the center median near the guardrail. But as I write this I am remembering that cars were driving around debris about 100 yards behind me. Is it possible that I don’t remember continuing to drive for that 100 yards and pulling over to the left of the 2-lane highway? I suppose it is. I’ve also wondered how the car got turned off…did it stall out or did I shut it off? I don’t know.

Standing in the middle of highway 95 staring at my poor car, it started rushing over me… My trip. My holiday. What’s to be done? Who should I call? How am I going to travel with all this luggage?

I climbed into the car and called Tom and Lenny. They were driving from Asheville NC to Savannah. “Lenny I totaled my car.” He didn’t believe me until I told him the exact extent of the damage. Could they come get me? No. It would be a 12-hour drive roundtrip. Insane.

The State Trooper showed up. I have to say that I’ve been very lucky with men in uniform. They have always been very useful, on the ball, polite, and handy in a crisis. He asked twice if I was OK. He was “on the case” immediately and “I didn’t have to worry about a thing”. Eventually after some time (and a few phone calls) sitting in my car, he asked that I come sit in his cruiser to answer some questions. Before I knew it my car was up on a flatbed truck ready to be towed. Where to? Little did I know this was just the beginning of my adventure in Emporia, VA.

Ask me about the junk yard dog. The motel lobby I spent 4 hours in. The bartender's friend. The one-armed cab driver. All and all I spent 6 strange hours in Emporia...and I need to blog the entire experience.

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Fast forward. 6;30 am Thanksgiving. Amtrak almost to Savannah.

I’m cold. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m sore. I can’t believe the last 15 hours of this trip. How did this come to be -- that I should be on a train arriving in Savannah at 7am on Thanksgiving day?

I’ve only ever owned two cars. In 1986 I bought a four year old White VW Rabbit. I had it for 12 years. Again I bought a 4 year old car, in 1998 this Red VW Golf. Two cars in 20 years. I’m going to miss my baby. She was a beauty. She ran like a top. She loved the highway. And boy was she fast.

Life can change in a second. I should be grateful that I nor anyone else in the accident was hurt. I am glad, but there is a sadness to my loosing the car. And I’m curious about what will be next for me and this trip to CA. Will I buy a VW in Savannah? Fly to Palm Springs? Train or bus it? Or meet a stranger on a craigslist who will offer me a ride? Who knows.

But all I know is that I didn’t expect to ever, least of all today, take a Midnight Train to Georgia.

UTILITY GRADE FRUIT

Indian Ladder Farm, Altamont, NY

DJ and I spent a perfect Saturday in upstate New York in mid-October. We went apple picking. Well more honestly we went apple roaming. We didn’t pick any apples nor did we go on the hayride with all the crying babies, moms and dads. We did our own thing and roamed around the farm – which actually had a lot to offer.

Indian Ladder Farms is a fourth generation orchard in New Scotland, Albany County. The Farm is located in the shadows of the dramatic Helderberg Mountain.

There were the many barns filled with memories of yesteryear. One could imagine how lives were led in these farmlands at the turn of the 20th century. The onset of the first automobiles. Wagon wheels left behind, now decorative items from years past.

The livestock seemed from a time gone by too. It’s not often this boy gets the chance to see a wooly cattle up-close and personal (officially a Scottish Highand Cattle). Apparently they are a very hearty stock, live on grass only (no feed), and can be trained easily because of their superior intelligence. Hmmm… The goats were odd looking as well – do you think that’s where Goat-ee comes from!?!

Of course one of the greatest draws to an apple farm is the goodies – and there were a-plenty. Stands with pumpkins, gourds, squash, jams and jellies, and of course – apples! Every size, shape, color, flavor, and purpose! And don’t forget the Apple Cider Donuts! DJ and I bought two bags full and nearly finished off one whole dozen before we left the farm (OK they were hot and we hadn’t had breakfast!).

All and all it was a beautiful day. One might say a Brokeback Day – but since we didn’t get our hands dirty or climb on a horse at all, maybe not...(tho we would have climbed on the hunky farm hand wearing the John Deere tshirt, but I digress…).

Just before we left (with an armful of apples and donuts) we wandered into the barn, only to find a sign titled Utility Grade Fruit. “At long last I think I found my illusive first tattoo” I thought to myself. (Now where to put it…).

If you’re outside Albany, the Indian Ladder Farm is a fun place to spend a couple of hours. And if it’s a sunny and warm day, you can hike for miles. It’s really worth the trip!