I met up with Laney for our first May Happy Hour on Saturday, our second time this year at La Cocina Oaxaqueña, which I realized this morning has basically become "our place." In the whole history of our Happy Hours, dating back to August 2014, we've gone there (or eaten food from there) a record 15 times, far surpassing the previous record holder of Rooster's Bar & Grill, which was 7. Granted, there's a very good chance Rooster's would still be the record holder even now, if not for the fact that Rooster's closed in 2019. Not even Laney's pandemic/retirement travels were a factor with this one, as they closed before any of that came to pass.

Now, I also have a log of all Laney's and my "virtual" Happy Hours during said travels, over the courses of the winters in 2021 and 2022, which she is now not intent to repeat. At present, there have been 17 total virtual Happy Hours—actually the first 7 of those during the pandemic stay-home orders before she even first left town; 10 of them during travels. To me those are sort of in a different category though, as "virtual" doesn't really qualify as a location. That said, La Cocina Oaxaqueña is on track to surprass even that, within the next year or so, probably. Hence that place becoming "our place," because we love their quesadillas fritas so much, and they have good margaritas and good Happy Hour prices—and they have Happy Hour every day from 4 to 6 p.m., even on weekends!

Anyway. I did "pre-game" a bit this time around, having a cocktail of lemonade with tequila before leaving home. Shobhit and I had driven a bit around town to do some shopping beforehand. This way I only had two margaritas at the restaurant, rather than three as I'd done the last time we went, back in March.

The weather was stupid-warm this weekend, with temperatures not exactly unheard of for Seattle summers, but certainly unheard of for Seattle springs: after a high of 73° on Friday (May 12), which was around 7° above normal, we hit a record 86° on Saturday (May 13); another record 89° yesterday (May 14); and the forecast high today (88°) will be yet another record—three daily records in a row, within the first half of May. Our morning low today was 63°, which is all of three degrees shy of our normal high for today's date.

The high in Seattle on this day one year ago was 59°.

It always amazes me how excited people get when unseasonably warm weather happens, like it's this delightful thing. Fools! Fools, every one of them!

Well, anyway. Laney and I had a very nice time hanging out, eating and drinking Saturday afternoon. We probably spent about three hours there, while Shobhit did some door knocking for his campaign. It's looking increasingly official that we will be marching in the Pride Parade, and we'll be inviting as many people as we can to join us. I'm not made about this; I haven't marched in any Pride Parade since marching with Trikone-NW at Vancouver Pride in 2008, and haven't marched in Seattle's Pride Parade since marching with the Seattle Lesbian and Gay Chorus in 2003—twenty years ago!—so it will actually be nice to mix it up. I'm just hoping we can whip up a good sized group to march with us.

Speaking of the SLGC, I spent about four hours at Steamworks on Saturday evening. There's a guy from the chorus I have run into many times there, just with both of us as patrons. I was mildly startled to see him actually working there as an employee when I went to check out.

— पांच हजार तीन सौ नब्बे-नौ —

Laney actually joined Shobhit and me for maybe an hour and a half at his campaign table outside the Capitol Hill Farmers Market at Cal Anderson Park yesterday. This was Shobhit's fourth consecutive Sunday there, getting around 10 or 11 contributions and signatures each time. As of last night, pending confirmation of matching signatures (the signed form has to match the voter registration signature, and if it doesn't it can be rejected), he has now actually met the 150-contributions goal. He just needs to get the signatures verified, and then the official county elections tally updated online, and he can stop asking people for direct donations. After that, he'll focus on getting people to allocate their Democracy Vouchers to him. That part is a little more complicated, and at the same time easier, as it no longer involves asking people to spend their own money.

I don't know yet if this is wishful thinking, but I'm hoping this might loosen Shobhit up to the idea of actually doing something special for our anniversary next month. His sprint to get to the contributions goal was about the filing dates, which are this week, starting today and ending Friday. After this, it's just about getting the most votes for the primary election on August 1. That pushes the next essential deadline out a bit, and, I'm hoping, offers a bit of breathing room in June.

That said, campaign events he needs to be at will always be a possible factor. He was invited to an event this Wednesday for the Coalition of Immigrants, Refugees and Commumities of Color, and given that Shobhit is himself two of those things, it's clearly imperative that he be there—he wants me to be there too, and so, okay. I can't commit to going to everything, but even though this means neither of us will make it to the biweekly Action Movie Night this Wednesday, at which I was supposed to be the one to choose the movie, it just means I'll choose next time. This one was a compromise I could easily make.

Anyway, back to yesterday: this was my second time joining him for either most or all of his time at the table by the park. Laney and I had left last week for our double feature at about 2:00; this time I had nothing to leave early for, so I was there from start to finish, helping him set up and helping him break down. I frankly still really don't enjoy doing this at all, nor do I particularly like being obligated to it, but it's also not exactly ruining my life either, and blocking out four hours most Sundays is not hard to do. (I only didn't do it those first two weekends because they overlapped with my fully booked-up Birth Week activities.)

I still couldn't ever muster the courage to initiate with passers-by, but we able, a few times, to engage people whenever they meandered to the table to see what we were about, and Shobhit was already talking to someone else. Sachin was unable to join us this week, which left just Shobhit and me for the vast majority of the time we had there. I know Shobhit wishes I could work harder at this, but I get ambivalent about any expectation to be a person I am not, which is to say, any kind of salesman.

Laney isn't that either, but she was far better with this than I was, once she arrived at about 1:30, having driven to the Park and Ride at Tukwila Station and then taking Light Rail into town—she came right out the Capitol Hill Station this Farmers Market is at, between its two entrances. She would hand out the "talking cards" to people walking by, actually being even more proactive than she had been last week. Shobhit got annoyed, though, when I left with her (at her request) twice to find a bathroom. I don't know why I didn't mention to Shobhit that I actually had to use the bathroom myself, so as far as I'm concerned I was well within my rights to leave Shobhit there for a few minutes, especially after Mary, another person from our building, showed up.

Honestly Mary was even less proactive than I was. She had ridden her bike there, and when she found a couple on their bikes—who had already made contributions last week—passing by, they stood and chatted comparing bikes for quite a while, not actively engaged in the campaign table at all. As much as I did arguably less than I could have, I rationalized by noting (to myself) that my mere presence was helpful, as I was regularly picking up stuff that the breeze was blowing off the table while Shobhit chatted with people, or keeping signed forms organized in a manila envelope once people were done signing them.

I keep dreading this whole endeavor, but much like last week, it really wasn't that bad. The four hours may seem like a lot but they go by quickly enough, really. Plus, this time, after seeing people walk by constantly with "Seattle Pops" in their hands, I went over to their booth at the Farmers Market right after Laney arrived, and got myself a Chocolate Banana one (delicious) and Shobhit a Coconut Cream one, which he could not eat for several minutes as he was engaged with a potential constituent when I got back; it was melting quickly when he was finally able to take it. And for the record, he asked me to get him one; this wasn't me just surprising him with a melty distraction in the middle of his campaigning.

Laney joining us, by the way, was also a bit of a last-minute decision. Because Jessica was busy working yesterday, they decided they're going to have "their Mother's Day" on Thursday, so she had no other plans in the early afternoon, so she suggested on Saturday that she might join us again. She was only there for about an hour before she left again, but she did hand out several of the talking-cards, even while we were walking to go use the bathroom.

— पांच हजार तीन सौ नब्बे-नौ —

As for the rest of my weekend, Friday night and last night were respectively the first two screenings of SIFF movies I attended.

The first one, on Friday—The Mattachine Family, quite good—was an interesting experience, less because of the movie itself than who I ran into there.

It was Mike B, the guy I met working at the Seattle Gay News in 1999, and who I was a huge part in convinceing to start his own paper, the Seattle Gay Standard, in 2000, the paper that then folded shortly after 9/11 hardly more than a year later. It was the last full-time permanent job I had before getting hired at PCC in 2002.

Mike and I have been Facebook friends since the late aughts, but have only exchanged even comments or messages there every once in a while—he did recommend a movie to me just last fall—but it had been a very long time since we last saw each other in person. I actually consulted my history of Social Reviews to figure this out, and it's been even longer than I thought: a few times after the Seattle Gay Standard ended, we met to exchange creative writing stories. The last time that happened, as it happened, was April 1, 2002. I had been assuming it was 2003, but it was actually twenty-one years since I last saw him. It's rather surprising, actually, that it should have taken so long for us to cross paths, as we have both continued living in Seattle all this time.

And by the way: when Mike and I first met, I was 23 years old and he was 27. The last time we saw each other was all of three years after that—those three years being massively momentous in both of our lives, so the memory of them stayed fresh for far longer than most years would—when I was 26 and he was 30. I actually noted during the maybe twenty minutes we had to chat on Friday that I am three years from 50. He noted, which I should have remembered as I know he was born the same year as my brother, that he is 50. Actually he celebrated his 50th in February of last year, which means I think maybe he actually forgot he's already 51. Ha!

In any case, we now both have full heads of gray hair. Granted, he had gray visible in his hair, albeit barely, from the moment I met him. But, I still have 12 photos of him on my Flickr account, 11 of them from between 1999 and 2001; a final one, from Andrea's Halloween party in 2004, he's unrecognizable in a costume.

Which means, oh wait a minute! I guess I last saw him in person in 2004. But, that's almost a technicality. As I said, he was unrecognizable. And although I did get a photo of him, we certainly wouldn't have spent any real time together there. 2002 remains the last time we spent any real time together.

And here he was, sitting a few rows from the back of the front-center sections of seats at the Egyptian Theater. I had sat in the front section as well, but in the left section right next to the left middle-aisle, a favorite place to sit as it keeps my eyline to the screen free of any heads in my way. Mike recognized me first before I spotted him; he was unmasked but even with a mask on my face I am easily recognized. He was sitting alone and gestured for me to come over, so I did.

This was maybe twenty minutes before the movie started. I want to say it was awkward, but that part wasn't, really. We just chatted amiably, about almost exclusively frivolous or inconsequential things. I wanted to ask about his parents but I have no idea if they are still alive; I'm pretty sure he's no longer with Eric, the partner he had twenty years ago but I know nothing about the story there either. Mike was an odd example of someone who became a huge part of my life for two and a half years, and then we very quickly drifted far apart. That makes it difficult to gauge how "real" the conversation should get when we suddenly find outselves chatting two decades later.

I did mention that Shobhit is running for City Council. I'm sure Shobhit would have wanted me to hit Mike up for a $10 contribution, but a) I didn't have forms with me; and b) this was not a scenario in which I felt comfortable steering the conversation there.

I might have left the theater as soon as the movie ended, not sticking around for the post-screening Q&A with the director, writer, producers and a couple of the actors, but because I moved to join Mike, I was boxed in without having to walk through other people in their seats. Thankfully, in spite of my complaining openly to Mike that I usually found Q&As to be unbearably awkward, this one turned out to be unusually informative and insightful. I'm actually glad I stayed for it.

When the Q&A was done and the theater was emptying, Mike and I got up silently, and I didn't even realize he wasn't walking behind me until he showed up in front of me at the pathway to the lobby, having walked around the other side. "Fancy meeting you here!" he chuckled. And then, there was a genuinely awkward moment outside the theater, when he asked which way I was going; he was facing west on Pine out in front of the theater. I was very seriously considering asking if he wanted to grab a drink and catch up, but then he caught the eye of some woman he apparently knew in line for the next movie, which made him give me a quick wave before he turned to go talk to her. So, okay then, I guess I'm just going home.

Later that night, I sent him a message over Facebook: It was good to see you tonight. I nearly asked if you want to get a drink or something and catch up, but you were immediately pulled away—because apparently you still know everybody lol

And about twenty minutes later he replied: Good to see you too. Enjoy the rest of the fest!

Well, all right then.

A longtime, childhood friend of Mike's, Andrea, who had worked reception at our paper for a brief period, remained good friends with me, for long after Mike and I fell away from each other, until she and I had a falling out of sorts of our own around 2010. I still remember what happened with Andrea, and I think we're both at a point where we let bygones by bygones by neither are we exactly keen on attempting to rekindle what once was. Basically the same has been the case with Mike, although I honestly can't remember what prevented us from really keeping in touch over the years, if anything. Unless there's something I'm forgetting, I think we just drifted away from each other.

I made at least three friends at the Seattle Gay News (Mike) or the Seattle Gay Standard (Andrea, Craig) who I would have assumed once upon a time we'd be good friends for a long time. I last saw Craig when I visited him in 2010 in San Francisco, and unless there's anything that happened with him that I am just unaware of, he's the one friendship I would have be thrilled to keep going but, after knowing each other and staying pretty close for nearly a decade, he kind of just . . . moved on. He doesn't even tend to respond these days if I comment on his Facebook posts, as he lives his life now with a new(er) husband in Montreal. Back when I knew him, he was still rail thin; these days he's so beefy I would literally not recognize him if I didn't see his name on his posts.

Ironically, the one person I remain good friends with from the Seattle Gay Standard days is Barbara, but I did not become friends with her at the paper; she and I had been friends a solid four years—having met at the call center I worked at doing phone interviews in the summer of 1996—before I convinced her to move to Seattle to be our Copy Editor (the lack of one being one of our many complaints at the Seattle Gay News). I am entirely the reason she moved from Spokane to Seattle in 2000, living with me very briefly before she found a place of her own in Belltown. She went on to spend more time with me than any other friend, even after Shobhit and I got together in 2004, clearly until she finally decided she wanted to be closer to her daughter and moved to Arlington, Virginia in 2010. (Shobhit also left for New York in 2010. A lot of momentous life changes occurred in 2010.)

Even Barbara and I spent a few years after that not being very much in touch. Then, when Beth (her daughter, who is a year older than I am), noted that Barbara had an iPhone and was more responsive to texts during the Trump era when she largely abandoned Facebook because it was all too depressing for her, Barbara and I started communicated more frequently again. Then, when Barbara decided to move to Louisville in 2021, I told her I would come visit her there as soon as we were far enough past the pandemic for that to be possible; I did that just last year, in March of 2022. I had not seen her in person at that point in over ten years, after having esablished her as one of "The Untouchables" (Danielle, Gabriel, Barbara), the three friends I felt fully confident will I'll be close friends with until the end. I would now put Laney in that same category.

What I loved most about Barbara was the way last year's visit successfully past the test, of when people say "We can go years not talking and then see each other and pick up right where we left off, as if we'd never been apart." That is exactly what happened with her: we were right at the same, comfortable place we had been with each other the last time we were together. It was fantastic.

Mike didn't know Barbara lived in Louisville either. I updated him on several things like that, in ways he didn't really update me on anything from his life. He has never been super active on Facebook so there's very little I know. These days, he's kind of just a guy I used to know well, twenty years ago. I still really was nice to see him again after all this time, though.

God knows if and when I'll see him again. When I went to sit next to him he actually said, "I had a feeling I'd bump into you today." Sure, okay. It's true, anyone who has ever known me well would know I go to movies at SIFF, and this was at the theater all of six blocks from where I live. Nevertheless, there's a lot of movie screenings at the festival, and the odds of him and me being at the same one remained low. I never trusted his claims of some kind of premonition very much, but, whatever.

So that brings us to last night, when I went down to the Uptown Theater to see my second SIFF movie of the year: And the King Said, What a Fantastic Machine, a documentary about the history of the camera that I felt could have used greater narrative focus. I didn't run into anyone at this movie, let alone any blasts from the past.

And that past just gets longer and longer, doesn't it, as we get older? At least institutional events like the Seattle International Film Festival have remained a reliable constant through all this time. Mike even noted that the last time he and I spent some time together, the last SIFF had actually been sponsored in part by our paper. Damn. And that would have been in 2001.

[posted 12:22 pm]