Waiting in my Minneapolis hotel room for my ride to the airport I did something I very rarely do: I watched TV. There are reasons television is not a part of my life. In the brief time I had the thing on I saw two things: One made me laugh and one made me angry.

The laugh came from a commercial for Nutrisystem for men. To lose weight you have to get all of your food from their company. In this particular ad the company offered a week of food, 7 breakfasts, 7 lunches and 7 dinners for free (with 28 day purchase)! A solidly built man chimed in with an excited, slightly psychotic exclamation of the amazing pizza and chocolate cake that made a stud out of his slob self! The idea that a weight loss company tries to boost business with a ton of free junk food is not only amusing, it blatantly illustrates how our overindulgent culture remains excessive even in the face of dieting.

Next I saw an ad for a new documentary called “Journeys with George” coming soon to MSNBC. Not looking up, I assumed by the upbeat instrumental soundtrack that it was that cute animated monkey that spills spaghetti and runs around causing pandemonium and being generally annoying to anyone in the immediate vicinity. Then I realized it was about our huge horse’s ass of a president so my initial assumption wasn’t far off the mark.

The doco is so obviously a desperate attempt to humanize a man whose face represents the power hungry, trigger happy, dollar obsessed reputation he’s earned for our country. His administration turned their backs and a blind eye to the 100s of thousands of lives that were changed forever in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Our president’s track record in the White House is like a list of atrocities carried out by some hostile regime in a third world country you’ve never heard of and yet he’s the leader of the free world. Revolutions have been ignited over much less. This pathetic documentary aims to give a demon a heart and generate good will of the people through the creative art of good editing and probably a healthy portion of bald faced lies. No matter what they do they can’t erase from the minds of the American people that this guy is a world class moron better suited to selling used cars. He has not only embarrassed us as a people, but has contributed to making us the most despised nation on the planet.

I’m very fond of the saying “No One Died When Clinton Lied” because Clinton’s legacy is a blow job and a dry cleaning bill. Never mind all of the progress he made for minorities or the fact that he genuinely seemed to care about the United States and the people that live here. It makes me wonder what Bush 2 will be remembered for?

The sleepy town I call home during the winter has gone through some changes in the time I’ve been gone. The video store that was run by the Lowells is now vacant with a “For Lease” sign in the front window that reads more like “Closed For Lack Of Interest”.

There used to be a small independent grocer by the name of Diane that dealt with the local farmers in the desert and surrounding areas. Everything was home grown and the only way to get this honest produce was to fill out an order form. She had broccoli, heirloom tomatoes, various kinds of apples and pears, beans and asparagus just to name a few. It felt really good to support local farming and to be part of such a healthy and beneficial interaction that you rarely see anymore.

As I drove into town I thought of how much fun I had preparing my meals around the seasonal produce. The stews I used to make. The elaborate omelets I would whip up so I could use what was left in the fridge to make room for what I would pick up that afternoon with all the other flip-flop wearing desert rats. However, as I drove by I caught glimpse of the store and saw the dreaded sign. This one read “Squeezed Out by Corporate Fucks!”…well not those words exactly, but close enough. Damn it!

Needless to say I was very disappointed by these discoveries. I mean, the list of reasons I like living in Palm Springs isn’t all that long to begin with. It wasn’t a very good time for a really annoying experience with an uncaring corporation. Enter Bank of America.

Whenever I have any interaction at all with Bank of America it usually ends with me fantasizing about removing all of my money from their greedy hands, packing it into Mason jars and burying them under palm trees. Not only do they have control of my money, they took over my credit card companies so it’s like there’s no escape. They have me at their incompetent mercy, but that lack of control I experience is admittedly offset by the extreme convenience of their normal operations. And I don’t really have that many Mason jars.

Last week I lost my ATM card; complete financial paralysis, right? It seemed like a visit to a local branch would be the best way to fix this. At the branch I was instructed to pick up a small white phone and press 1. Why did I bother coming to the branch if no one would help me? After a couple of minutes speaking with someone who sounded like he was all of 15 years old, I allegedly had my ATM card re-issued and left feeling some accomplishment and relief that my account had not been emptied.

This morning I called to check on the status of my card. I have learned from years of experience that thinking everything is taken care of will only lead to disappointment. I called my customer service (don’t even get me started on that phrase) number; the same one I’ve called for all of the nightmare problems I’ve had with them in the past. Sure enough, my ATM card had not been reissued and I had to sit on hold for three minutes grinding my teeth before they could find evidence that I reported it lost a week prior. I was livid and there was nothing they could say to make me feel anything less – especially not another one of their empty “I’m SO sorry!” statements.

It isn’t just the banks or the utility companies. More and more I find that my human interaction is being replaced by something more cost efficient. It isn’t an upgrade in any sense. Our population is booming out of control and yet companies are employing fewer people each year. While the companies protect their profit margins, we get crap service and have to visit megastores to get broccoli that was grown in Nova Scotia and have our movie rentals shipped to us from a distribution center in Kentucky. Personally, I’d rather support my local economy, get superior merchandise and have a nice chat with my favorite video store guy about new releases.

A while back I was asked to do an event at the Hybrid Café in West Hollywood funded by the Gay and Lesbian Center. The purpose of the event was to promote their new chat room for safe sex. Having somebody of my background was supposed to be the draw and also serve to facilitate the conversation and answer questions involving safe sex and my line of work.

The theme was “Johnny at Home” as they decked the place out in pillows and candles to simulate a comfortable, relaxed sexy feel. Honestly, they did a great job giving this open industrial space a cozy ambiance.

People had the option to drop into the café and chat with me there or sit at home in the comfort of their PJ’s or out of them and chat there. To help increase the foot traffic we had it on Friday at 8. This is prime time for people wandering about sniffing out the buzz. As people go they were a bit hesitant at the idea of coming inside and felt much more at ease gazing through the wall of glass that separated me from the increasing number of party goers outside. Did I mention that I was smack in the middle of the store, on the couch barefoot in a bathrobe? If that wasn’t drawing attention the only thing left would go against certain laws of public exposure for sure.

My generation has it pretty easy. We had no Stonewall Riot, no march on Washington or “gay plague”. What we do have is the power to prevent and treat HIV, more resources and safe havens across the country than ever before, we have a voice in Washington and the Madison Avenue ad machine is hungry for our dollars. Most of all, we are visible and I say this because we need to remember what so many people did for us. We can walk down Santa Monica Blvd and kiss our male friend on the lips without fear of verbal or physical assault. We must not forget the efforts of our brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers that made it possible for the likes of Will and Grace, Ellen and even Rosie O’Donnell to be part of mainstream culture.

There is still much work to be done, but I really think the hardest parts are behind us. Still, it’s important that we all try to help in any way we can. If you’re a big name porn star you can donate an expensive public appearance to help spread the word about HIV prevention. If not, you can volunteer or contribute to causes that help the community. Whatever you do, do it for those that accomplished so much at such a high price to make our little gay world a better place.

The last exploration of Road Trip 07 was the Golden Gate Bridge and the Muir Woods today. The Golden Gate Bridge is easy to take for granted until you see it again up close. It’s big, beautiful and functional. What more could you ask for? It’s the west coast’s answer to the Statue of Liberty and the gateway to a most magical city.

Even though you could easily spend a day hiking through the many trails of the Marin Headlands, Scott and I made our way north. Named after John Muir, one of the earliest and certainly the most famous of the preservationists, Muir Woods is a sanctuary of forest that was spared the gold rush logging of the late 1800’s due to its inaccessibility. Incidentally, John Muir worked as a sheepherder in the Sierras where he explored the wonders of Yosemite. I have to wonder what other wonders he may have discovered up on that mountain…

The word “magnificent” comes to mind when you walk through this lush wilderness. It’s hard to believe that from one seed these giant sequoia grow to such unparalleled heights; especially when you consider that it takes 10,000 of those seeds to make a single pound! Some of these trees are as old as the Christian calendar. Just thinking about a living thing standing proud for all that time just blows me away.

This trip has been more than just a tour through the National Park system and a leisurely move from my summer residence. It has been an educational and eye-opening journey that illustrated for me how we are a mere punctuation mark in the novel of time; that “our time” barely qualifies as a chapter in the insignificant segment of Earth’s history that our race has occupied. The wonders that Scott and I have witnessed and shared have been millions of years in the making and yet have been negatively impacted by mankind in a geological blink. I could get preachy on your asses, but instead I will simply say that Donna Summer’s disco classic “Macarthur Park” does a great job of describing our future if you think of our planet as a beautiful cake. And it is a most beautiful and unique cake, if you ask me.

I have fallen in love with this land of ours and my understanding of it and the respect that comes from that knowledge has changed me somehow. All of us need to gain some perspective, and I don’t mean just environmentally. Even if we aren’t activists or lobbyists or champions of change in our communities, we really need to step back and look at the bigger picture. I know it’s a cliché and of course the current administration wants you to keep on worrying about how to makes ends meet and nothing else, but even acknowledging that we are fucking ourselves and our future is a step in the right direction.

As for me, I will take it upon myself to commit time and resources to making changes in the way we interact with the planet. It isn’t difficult. There are groups out there busting their asses to create positive change and all I have to do is help. We used to smoke in bars and it seemed impossible to change that. And now? Well, that’s what patios are for.

Thanks Scott.

We were in Memphis on Friday, home to Graceland and the Civil Rights Museum. It was Scott’s idea to tour the city and the museum. I had no idea that it was centered on the Lorraine Motel, the place where the Reverend Martin Luther King had his last day. I was looking forward to seeing the museum, but I must admit I was not overly excited.

I am so glad we did. I cannot put in to words the feelings that went through me as I walked through the museum. I was transported back to a time where, to say the least, we were not on our best behavior. There was so much hate and so many terrible things being done that it brought several rounds of tears to my eyes. It seems impossible to fathom that these things happened so recently and that our government really thought that these laws and rules were humane, logical and most importantly, Constitutional.

Whenever I think about courage from now on I will think of the people who stood up to a force that so badly wanted nothing more than to see them gone. When I think about determination, I will think of all the years it took Rev. Martin Luther King and his followers to fight for the things we take for granted today. And when I think of hope, it will be their fights, falls and fears that I remember. Most importantly, we all have to remember that the fight isn’t over.