Superman Returns ...

Anyone who knows me undoubtedly knows how anxious I've been to see Bryan Singer's Superman Returns. To say it did not disappoint is a huge understatement. Is it perfect? No. Is it what I expected? Well, yes and no. Yes, it's a lovely "renewal" of the franchise. Yes, the characters are intact and their "histories" are honored. Yes, Brandon Routh is an admirable Superman and particularly charming as the somewhat bumbling Clark Kent. Yes, Kevin Spacey owns his role and brings a deeply sinister vibe to Luthor that can't help but smack the viewer in the face. And yes -- the classic theme music is there, woven throughout Singer's celluloid tapestry in a majestic and reverential way. But no ... I truly did not expect to be so touched, moved, and wrapped up in the human foibles of the character I've loved for most of my life.

I won't get into plot specifics (there are myriad sites out there for that kind of thing, if you're interested) ... but Singer and company obviously love Superman and his world very, very much. The characters are front and center here, and I think this more than anything else helps make the film work. It's a gorgeous looking movie, too. Eye-popping effects are effectively balanced with sweet (and sometimes, bittersweet) character moments. And that score! John Ottman deserves high praise for his work here. He's taken the very best of the classic John Williams score and created something very special. The subtle hints of "Can You Read My Mind?" are especially powerful when they appear.

Brandon Routh should be very proud. He evokes the late, great Christopher Reeve, of course (in fact, there are moments when he sounds and looks so much like Reeve it's eerie), but he inhabits the role with power and an admirable grace. I was damn impressed. As Superman, he's earnest and heroic. As Clark, he's dutiful and sweet and ... human. In direct contrast to Batman, where the costumed identity is the true identity, Clark Kent is who Superman really is. He's bright and funny and talented and genuine. That's always been one of my favorite aspects of the character -- this alien from another world who is truly more human than any Earth native. Singer must agree with me, because it's readily apparent in his film.

I could go on and on ... but I'll end with this:
The flight scenes are fantastic ... truly thrilling. Watching this man zoom through the skies of Metropolis performing truly superheroic deeds made my inner fanboy burst with pride and comfort. But unquestionably, my biggest joy came while watching Superman land. There's a grace and majesty to his movement that touched me deeply. All this power ... all these amazing abilities ... and it's his gentle touchdowns that speak volumes.

I loved this film.

It's been an interesting week. I'm glad it's winding down, because we have some potentially fun things planned for the weekend ... and everyone who knows me knows I enjoy the fun. It's not that the week has been horrid or anything - just a little "out of synch" with the rest of the month, thus far. I'm chalking it up to work stress, money stress, and just plain 'ol general stress. Things have calmed themselves and as I said -- the weekend is in sight.

The Indianapolis Gay Pride Parade and festival was this past weekend.
For the first time, the parade itself was actually pretty good. I would like to see a bit more diversity in floats and presentation, but I think we're getting there. It's only a few years old ... and it has most definitely come a long way since its inaugural run.
Of course, the Indianapolis Star could only manage to print pictures of the drag queen floats ... and barely mentioned the diversity present. I shouldn't be surprised ... what garners the most attention is what gets the most media coverage. And I'm a firm believer in visibility at any cost ... but it sure would be nice to have a larger picture of the gay community pictured. Don't get me wrong -- I love our drag queen sisters just as much as I love our PFLAG family members and everyone else. But perhaps a picture of one or two families, the older lesbian couple who mentioned they'd been together for 42 years, or the openly gay civic leaders in attendance would have been a nice touch. Just a thought.

Julia Carson gave a fun speech. I wouldn't exactly call her articulate, but she does stick strictly to her core belief system in pretty much everything she does. And her Shirley Q.-isms only endeared her more to me.

Our friend Waylon is just as cute as a button. I don't think he even realizes it.

I overheard a young gay kid (and by kid I mean early 20's - hehe) talking to his mother. The mother said "It has to be hard for all these people to just be themselves all the time. It has to be tough." She gestured toward the drag queen onstage and said "That has to be the hardest kind of life." The kid sort of verbally agreed with her, but his body language told a completely different story. I thought about what I had overheard (and watched) for a bit, as I walked through the crowd looking for Tony and our friend Adam. I guess I'm lucky -- after making the decision to come out, I've never struggled with being myself. It's not hard for me to present myself as a gay man ... because it's what I am. No, it doesn't solely define me, but it damn well plays a large part in the overall mixture of who I am ... and it's never been something that's bothered me or caused me shame. That kid's mother has taken an important step, attending the event with her son and showing her support that way. But she also has a lot to learn ... and I hope some serious lessons seeped into her as the day progressed.

Do you remember what it was like to be in high school? Well, Curtis Sittenfeld does ... and her (yes, she's a female) novel Prep is pretty damn good. I'm only 100 or so pages in, but I'm captivated. It isn't that the story is particularly gripping ... but the author's grasp of the high school experience is intoxicating. I came across a passage last night that made me stop ...

But I was living my life sideways. I did not act on what I wanted, I did not say the things I thought, and being so stifled and clamped all the time left me exhausted; no matter what I was doing, I was always imagining something else.

Wow. Simple, brilliant, and really, really telling.
I still feel this way ... and that saddens me a little. Those who know me will probably read this and scoff, thinking "That bitch tells it like it is -- always says what's on his mind." Well, not so much, really. Sure, I comment on everyone else and the choices they make ... but when it comes to my personal life, well ... I'm still guarded. One of the greatest gifts of fiction is its knack for mirroring "real life," and Sittenfeld all but slapped me in the face with this passage. Today has been a day of self-reflection. That's not so bad.

My birthday was wonderful. Thank you to all my friends who took the time to celebrate with me ... and for all the goodies that ensued. I treasure each and every one of you. I really do.

35 is weird. I'm not flipped out, really, but it has given me even more reason to conduct some serious self evaluation. This is absolutely NOT where I expected to be at this age ... although I don't think I'm doing horribly. But I do think it's a good place and time to gear up for bigger and better things.

Okay?

One of my co-workers told me this morning that he can't listen to music because it makes him feel "scattered." He went on to say that, because I had played several different songs during his visit to my area, he'd have a difficult time concentrating on his paperwork when he returned home. "It's an honest to God truth," he said. "I've been that way my whole life."

I think I'd put a bullet in my head if that happened to me.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that music is like mother's milk to me. Hell, it's like Holy Communion, to the nth degree. There isn't anything else in the world that speaks to my spirit the way music does ... and I'm so thankful that something stirs me the way it does. Sure, I'm moved by beautiful art in any form ... but music -- there are no words. Music is sweet honey, bitter ginger, rich chocolate, warm tea, and cold beer. Music is air conditioning. Laughter. Tears. Sex. Passion. Satisfaction. Pain. Sadness. Glee. Determination. It's perseverance, tenacity, dogged resolve. It's ennui, ambivalence, acquiescence, and defeat. And it's success, pride, spirit, and realization of potential.

Play what you like, and listen to it often. Hit random, repeat, or just play it in album order. Who cares? Much like your personal relationship with your own spirituality, your musical preferences are all yours. What you like or don't like is entirely objective. And that's part of what makes it so damn beautiful. So turn it on and turn it up. And soak it in.