So I went to one of the most interesting ‘haunts’ of the Halloween attractions scene last night with Amy: Hobb’s Grove. We bought the ‘Combo’ package and enjoyed a very scary Hayride, somewhat scary Haunted House, and somewhat cheesy Haunted Forest. I also finally met Caleb - who runs the ‘Museum’ - which is pretty much the contents of his living room - everything from a case full of dead animals to a collection of human bones and autopsy equipment and literature, along with old Victorian coffins and x-rays of his own skull with a nail jammed in it. He’s a trip, and defiantly unpretentious…

I was reminded after reading an entry in David’s journal that I never gave plugs to the The Big Fresno Fair, which I visited last Friday. I played the ponies, I ate all the junk food, I bought little trinkets from a silly Irish guy, I watched the 12-year-old girls push their baby strollers. ‘Nuff said.

I went to get my iBook yesterday and it ended up out of stock. Ten more friggin’ days to wait. O well, that means I actually will have the luxury of an additional paycheck when the thing arrives. All the better on the finance charges. So don’t go holding your breath for any substantial updates to the side outside of this page until next month. But then, I doubt there’s all that many visitors yet…

Went to Open Mic Night at Club Fred last night just to see if it was a viable option for me. It turned out adequately diverse to warrant my delving for material for next week’s session. Hopefully I’m not so unpopular that I end up having ripe tomatoes thrown my way. Most likely I’ll be reciting a work-in-progress commentary on the recent Billy Graham visit to Fresno (my lack of attendence to which makes me feel like quite the minority recently).

I’m listening to Just Desserts. I need to buy their other CD. Speaking of which, whilst at Hobb’s Grove last week, one of the goulish entertainers was a fiendishly cute 20-something who was playing guitar for the crowds waiting in line for the haunted forest. His crooning voice was refreshing in the rather over-done pussy-rock/goth-punk atmosphere, and it bore an intriguing resemblance to the styles of Tom Laverack (Just Desserts’ lead singer). I cornered him at the hot cocoa booth and suggested he give Laverack a listen. He seemed too cold and tired to notice.

On that note, the nights are becoming comfortably cold finally. I hope it lasts for at least the rest of the week. I’ve most likely got a visitor this weekend from the City, and we all know what weather pussies San Franciscans are.

I escaped Reel Pride with a trip to the West side. I toured Easton, Caruthers, Huron and Coalinga. Tomorrow I will take on Mendota, Firebaugh and Kerman. Fun.

Once again my neighborhood is being transformed into a plastic queer mecca for four days. Since Thursday, theReel Pride movie festival has threatened to plug up all the streets with middle-aged fag couples and bleach-blonde dykes walking arm-in-arm.

Each year for almost a decade now, the Tower Theatre has been home once each fall to this Gay & Lesbian Film Festival. I’m so incredibly sick of it I don’t really think I can lucidly describe in what ways it is so offensive. The fare available is all of dubious merit, whether artistically or commercially - a conglomeration of otherwise unrelated ‘gay coming of age’ stories, featuring thirty-something boy actors who look twenty but play teenagers, or twenty-something dyke actors who look forty but also play teenagers.

Once again an event portrays an idealized and glossy version of queerdom which has no viable connection to reality, and all of the attendees of this particular event in no way resemble the characters, nor have they had even remotely similar experiences themselves in their past.

Nonetheless, the fags come out of the woodwork for this event… more fags than you would dare to assume could possibly exist. The heteros and unlaminated homos have to go into hiding in order to avoid being trammeled on, and if you aren’t dressed in refelctive lycra or pink polyester blends, and walking hand-in-hand with an equally offenisive freak, you will be completely invisible.

No wonder at all that I have no interest in venturing into my own neighborhood for an entire weekend. I, who LIVE here, versus all the clones who live their cozy domesticated lives 360 other days out of the year out in North Fresno. The fact that they chose to appropriate this part of town for their sickening festivals and disgusting parades I equate to the hideous gentrification of every other neighborhood of merit. Rather than confine their destruction to their own parts of town, they have to declare Tower District the “gay section” just because a few classy and vocal gay couples bought up a bunch of the commercial buildings a couple decades ago.

I can’t wait until Monday night when I should finally have my neighborhood back…

I’ve been having this recurring dream where I’m just walking around the old Thrifty in Clovis, reading comics, eating ice cream, rummaging through the toy aisle, etc. For some reason, they’re really detailed dreams and yet nothing much happens in them. I think it has something to do with the fact that this particular Thrifty was closed down before the Rite Aid takeover, and thus it never got converted. It just sat there empty for years. Then yesterday whilst I was getting my lunch, I passed by the shopping center where it was, which has recently been remodeled. The Save Mart which was in the only occupied anchor tenant space had expanded to occupy the old Thrifty pad as well, and the remaining half of the center was being demolished. I guess I just missed occasionally passing by that center and seeing the sun-bleached fascia which still showed the ghost of the Thrifty sign on it. The last reminder of that good old Thrifty logo now gone forever…

I may have to explore the town for any others… I doubt there are any this far down the line, now, though.

I’m also about to take that leap into the world of high-speed internet, I think, considering that SBC is offering an intro promotion that I just can’t pass up… Yeah, I know, the promotions usually tend to get better as time goes on, and a year down the line there’ll probably be an even better deal. I also know I’ll probably get a bunch of anti-SBC hate mail now… But honestly, they currently have the best deal in this area. [I did in fact come to regret this decision within the next six months or so. My bad. - MCK 2003]

Speaking of this area, the frost is killing me. I’ve had my heater on for about 3 days straight now, and my apartment is still constantly chilly (I also don’t want to hear anything about how I’m exacerbating the “power emergency” with my love for warmth). I think it got down to about 28 last night (and I don’t want to hear anything from you north plains or Midwest people about how I don’t know what real cold is…).

How’s that for being a little preemptively reactive today?

I officially need it to be Friday. Friday night, preferably.

I’m glad we’re finally taking the Bay Area to court. We may not (and I actually hope we don’t) enforce anything as far as actually reducing Bay Area pollution production, but hopefully the end result of the case is an affirmation that making the Central Valley responsible for 100% of its air quality problems overlooks the fact that most of our pollution sees its source esewhere.

Anyone who knows my political opinions would understand that I’m in no way a fan of environmental laws, epecially when they get in the way of commerce. But in the recent case, Sacramento is trying to tell their southern counterparts that we need to reduce our smog or lose the federal money that we produced but that they control. This pisses me off even more, and thus think we need some sort of official recognition that most (yes, most) of the San Joaquin basin’s pollution is produced in the Bay Area.

Ultimately, industrial pollution is a side effect of freedom and affluence. We should welcome it. But here we’re dealing with a catalogue of irrational laws - we have to know which to attack first - and I think the “total responsibility” part is a good place to start.

After a lengthy battle, Fresno has beat out Clovis in the fight over who gets to annex Copper River. I must say that it’s refreshing that people are actually clamouring to join Fresno. It’s a rare departure from the old-hat snubbing shown by the snobbish county islands such as Sunnyside, Fig Garden and Fort Washington, who continue to deny annexing. I’m sort of a Fresno supremiscist, and a statistics whore, and those combine to make me happy about any news of growth in Fresno. I have this fantasy of Fresno one day beating San Francisco population-wise (it has already beat Long Beach to become #5 in the state - not bad for being #3 in terms of total land area).

My fantasy was almost crushed a few years back when Madera approved the Children’s Hospital Development on the 41 corridor, since it meant the city would be jumping over the San Joaquin river and into Madera rather than continuing to grow within Fresno County. New growth in southern Madera will continue to leach some growth out of Fresno for the forseeable future, and the possibility of an LA County-Orange County type of seamless metro area is a good prediction, to which I don’t really object per se. But I still want Fresno to be the statistical beneficiary. And with the renewed interest in the Copper River area and the forthcoming extension of 180 into the Kearny-Kerman area should spark some new suburban growth in this often neglected but very promising region. Of course, this wouldn’t matter if this was back east, where the city growth isn’t subject to county boundaries.

Horray for Fresno. And if it’s any consolation, I don’t mind if Clovis gets Tarpey. Clovis deserves the trailer trash. It is Klovis Klan Kountry, after all - and Tarpey is where the burning crosses feel most at home. They can annex that if they really need some growth. But that kind of growth might be a little too much like a tumor, I guess. Whatever.

I have looked at my home often as a sanctuary. Growing up in a very closely-knit family meant that privacy and time by myself were often an afterthought. My strong desire for solitude is in part a type of survival instinct. I often feel that without it, I’ll end up getting depressed or taking out my frustrations on those who I care about the most.

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