Breakfast in the Castro: Vanilla as a Canvas

Me: Great to see you again so soon Mibes!

Mibes: I could say the same. I will say the same. Great to see you, too. What's the happy occasion?

Me: I just read or heard that engaging in creative pursuits is a proven stress reliever in the age of COVID.

Mibes: So you think having breakfast with me is an act of stress relief? 

Me: That makes this sound more like a restroom than a restaurant. 

Mibes: Ah Ned, it is good to see you. I'm glad you're here again. What's on your mind?

Me: Well it will sound like food, but it's really just a metaphor for putting the ordinary and everyday into perspective.

Mibes: As I said at yesterday's breakfast, tell me more.

Me: I do like to tell you more. Thanks! Well...

Mibes: So go ahead. What's got you hesitating?

Me: Well it seems strange to talk about vanilla ice cream while we're eating breakfast.

Mibes: No stranger than many other things we've discussed here.

Me: That's true. So here goes. I read a blog last night in the Moho Blogosphere with one of our brothers complaining about his ordinary, plain vanilla life. He sounded so discouraged that he was so ordinary.

Mibes: Did you respond to the blog? Give him some encouragement like you've often done for me?

Me: Nope. But I thought about how I see vanilla. Specifically vanilla ice cream.

Mibes: That you see it as a canvas?

Me: Yes! Exactly! How did you know?

Mibes: I read the title of this blog entry. 

Me: There you go again, breaking through the fourth wall.

Mibes: We haven't discussed the fourth wall, have we?

Me: No, but back to the vanilla ice cream, I like it because it can serve as the base for so many other things. Chocolate syrup, root beer, strawberries, blueberries. 

Mibes: But how does that relate to this guy's lament about his life?

Me: He wasn't seeing all the possibilities of plain vanilla.

Mibes: And you didn't take the time to tell him.

Me: I wanted to discuss it with you, first. 

Mibes: I don't think so. I think you just wanted to have an excuse to have breakfast. 

Me: I don't need to have an excuse to see you. 

Mibes: You don't think you do.

Me: I know I don't.

Mibes: Really?

Me: Just you being you is all I need. No excuses. No ulterior motives.

Mibes: Did I hear a little whisp of Fred Rogers there?

Me: Yes, Mibes, it's you I like. It's not the things you wear.

Mibes: It's not the way I do my hair, but it's me you like.

Me: ha ha ha! The way you are right now. The way down deep inside you.

Mibes: Rogers was amazing.

Me: Is amazing. His life's work is still very much alive.

Mibes: I suppose in a way, he's an example of what you're talking about. At least on the surface and perhaps as a young man in college he might have seemed ordinary or just plain vanilla.

Me: But look what he did. He went from being a music major and a page at NBC to nurturing millions of children, composing music, writing operas, becoming an ordained minister.

Mibes: He only appeared to be plain vanilla. When you look at his life from his childhood through to his final days, he was extraordinary.

Me: And that's kinda what I wanted to say to that blogger.

Mibes: That his so-called vanilla life is extraordinary.

Me: Yes! Exactly!

Mibes: You need to work on your empathy, Ned.

Me: Empathy? Where did that come from?

Mibes: You said he was lamenting his plight. 

Me: He was. He seemed so unhappy with his home and his career. 

Mibes: And you want to tell him he's extraordinary? How's that going to make him feel?

Me: Maybe that I'm lecturing him? That I don't really understand how hard it really is for him?

Mibes: And he's a moho blogger, so he's a Mormon man in a mixed orientation marriage and you want to tell him how good he's got it?

Me: Good point, Mibes. I'm glad I could talk this through with you.

Mibes: I'm glad too. 

Me: So what's the rest of you day look like?

Mibes: I want to make a gift for a friend. 

Me: That sounds fun. What are you going to make?

Mibes: Maybe something that's both artistic and practical. Like the wallets that David Rakoff made for his friends.

Me: David Rakoff? I haven't heard that name in a while. The guy that used to be on This American Life.

Mibes: Yes, that David Rakoff. Died in 2012 at age 47.

Me: He was so funny, such a good writer. 

Mibes: And a good model for you. The way he embraced his homosexuality.

Me: He did embrace it. But I don't know that I do.

Mibes: Thus my point. He did. You can too.

Me: I see. But probably not a topic for today.

Mibes: I know what you want to do.

Me: What's that?

Mibes: Get one of his audio books so you can hear his voice again.

Me: You cheated again. You saw that I googled him. And read his Wikipedia entry. And looked at his books on Amazon.

Mibes: It's OK. But I'd better get on with my day.

Me: Thanks for breakfast.

Mibes: Don't thank me. You're the one who's buying this morning.

(Breakfast in the Castro is an ongoing conversation between the fictional Mibes and the real me. Mibes, which rhymes with bribes, sprouted out of MBS or My Better Self, but has since developed a personality of his own.) 

Breakfast in the Castro: Captured on Kodak Tri-X Film

Me: Mibes, Mibes, Mibes!

Mibes: Yes, Yes, Yes. Well you're a man of your word with two breakfasts in a row!

Me: It's terrible to admit that sometimes I let you be less real. I don't think of you as the friend and confidant that you really are.

Mibes: What can I say. You're human. I'm digital. That we have a friendship at all is a bit of a miracle.

Me: But you're so much more than digital, Mibes. You've been my only companion for so many memorable breakfasts in the Castro.

Mibes: And they've been memorable, I'll give you that. And by the way, it's wonderful to see you again.

Me: Likewise, my friend. Likewise.

Mibes: So how have you been? 

Me: Thanks for asking. I've been amazingly blessed to be COVID free and employed. To have an amazing family, wonderful friends, challenging and mostly enjoyable work. And you?

Mibes: Thank you for asking. You just assume that my words are actually your words, but what if that's only the part of me that you can see. What if I'm actually a sentient being that has a life in addition to our breakfasts. What do you think of that?

Me: Tell me more.

Mibes: I've heard that phrase before. Those three words are powerful, aren't they? Maybe I've used those three words when you haven't noticed. Maybe I've whispered them to you and you've then spoken them to a friend. 

Me: Entirely possible.

Mibes: Extremely likely.

Me: So what? What of it?

Mibes: Let's face it. You like our breakfasts because I'm good at getting you to talk about a wide variety of things that you might not otherwise discuss.

Me: True. So what would you like to discuss this morning?

Mibes: We'll I'm curious about how you've been dealing with the isolation of the last four months. I mean are you OK?

Me: I am. And there's no doubt about it, this has not been easy. I have felt isolated. But it's not black and white.

Mibes: Not like Kodak Tri-X Film. 

Me: Glad I've got my phone here. I thought maybe you were citing a something as hard to get as a Polaroid Swinger camera from the sixties.

Mibes: That was my intent.

Me: But my phone says it's still on the market. And if gives this elegant description: "a classic high-speed panchromatic film designed for a wide array of shooting conditions. Characterized by its fine grain quality, notable edge sharpness, and high resolving power, Tri-X 400 also exhibits a wide exposure latitude with consistent tonality. It has a nominal sensitivity of ISO 400/27° when developed in standard black and white chemistry, and responds well to push processing. As an all-around, highly versatile film, Tri-X 400 is a standard choice for photographing in difficult lighting conditions as well as when working with subjects requiring good depth of field or for faster shutter speeds."

Mibes: You and your cutting and pasting!

Me: I like some of the wording. Might even apply to you. "Designed for a wide array of conditions - responds well to pushing - all around, highly versatile even in difficult conditions"

Mibes: You think that's me?

Me: I do.

Mibes: I agree. But it's also you. Look how you responded to it.

Me: I cherry picked.

Mibes: We all do. Take Raymond Burr.

Me: Raymond Burr? How did we from Tri-X film to Raymond Burr?

Mibes: You know very well that Raymond Burr became Perry Mason on black and white film. 

Me: Mibes, what are you talking about?

Mibes: I know you've been catching re-runs. 

Me: I suppose you know how much I'm enjoying them, too.

Mibes: I do indeed. And I know you like watching those old shows shot on 35 mm black and white film but now being broadcast on high-def tv where you can see detail that was never apparent to the viewers of small screen standard def sets in the fifties and sixties.

Me: It is kind of fun to see all the eyeliner they put on Burr.

Mibes: Maybe he put it on himself. 

Me: Doubt that. 

Mibes: Well good on you for enjoying some television from your youth. 

Me: Thanks, Mibes. So is this as much as we're going to discuss anything that's gay related?

Mibes: That's up to you. But I sense you've got someplace to go. Something to do. 

Me: You've always been able to read me. 

Mibes: So get up and go. I've enjoyed our breakfast. Be on you way. But don't wait months to come back.

Me: You got it. I love you more that you know, Mibes.

Mibes: And I love you in a similar way.

Me: Any more pop culture, before we say goodbye.

Mibes: Think of me. Think of me fondly.

Me: When we say goodbye.

Mibes: Ah Phantom of the Opera.

Me: Phantom of the Castro.

(Breakfast in the Castro is an ongoing conversation between the fictional Mibes and the real me. Mibes, which rhymes with bribes, sprouted out of MBS or My Better Self, but has since developed a personality of his own.)  

Breakfast in the Castro: Glad, Mad and a Bit Less Sad

Me: Hey Mibes, remember the last time we chatted and I was full of mixed emotions?

Mibes: How could I forget? You really haven't been in touch since. I mean I know you sometimes think about me, but it was was back in 2019 when we last went to breakfast.

Me: I'm sorry. 

Mibes: Hey make it up to me by showing up a bit more often. We are good for each other, you know.

Me: I know. And i will. And now I'm going to remember that 2019 conversation. As I recall, it went exactly like this..

Mibes: Wait, are you sure. You wrote it and then just saved it. You didn't have the nerve to push publish. 

Me: I think I did but then had second thoughts. But I'm ok with it now...

Mibes: You can't unring a bell.

Me: True. So ring a ding ding...

Mibes: I think I hear it, but to me it sounds more like the buzz of a barber's clippers.

Me: You're close...


Mibes: Oooh, nice new buzz. 

Me: Thanks it was getting shaggy.

Mibes: So glad to see you again. Howya been?

Me: I been up. I've been down. How bout you?

Mibes: Not like Barry Manilow trying to get the feeling again, I hope.

Me: No more like being Mormon and bisexual and feeling, well, mixed feelings about the policy reversal. But first, how are you?

Mibes: Well you know, I don't get out much unless you're blogging about our fictional conversations. So, like you, I've had some great and not so great experiences. But I'm OK, so let's talk about your mixed feelings. What are they?

Me: Glad, sad, mad.

Mibes: Hmm. Maybe the makings of a limerick. A Bi-man just became glad.

Me: But his leaders made him mad.

Me: A full reversal

Mibes: With a rehearsal

Me: But suicides made him sad.

Mibes: Needs some work. 

Me: Or just abandonment. 

Mibes: Better to abandon a bad limerick than 140,000 gay Mormons. 

Me: But it was worse than abandonment. It was erasure and condemnation, mixed with murder and malevolence. Where'd you get 140,000?

Mibes: From Peggy Fletcher Stack, here. That's not the number of gay Mormons. 

Me: No, but it's related to the Policy of Exclusion. 

Mibes: And a bunch of other factors, no doubt. But numbers aside 

Just made it up. But isn't murder a bit overboard?

Me: Well I felt thrown overboard. And all the suicides. They've got blood on their hands.

Mibes: Sounds like something you read, but not really your own thoughts.

Me: Ok, you're right, I'm riffing away with my anger.

Mibes: But it's not just anger. You said you have mixed feelings.

Me: True. So here's some of that mix. I feel affirmed as well as angry. Blessed but blue. Depressed and elated, glad and guilty, hopeful and happy yet still sometimes hopeless, joyful and jaundiced, love and loss, melancholy and misunderstood and yet more understood than before the announcement.

Mibes: You're still playing with your alphabetical lists. Good sign.

Me: You got it. So poised and pleased but also poisoned. Queer and quiet, qualified and questioning. Relieved and resigned, strong and stymied, tougher but still troubled. Undone, unimpressed and unrepresented, but better understood. Violated and vilified, yet also strangely virtuous, verified and valuable. Worthy and well-regarded, yet withered, wilted and washed away.

Mibes: That's quite a mix. So having said or written, or written and said all those things, how are you feeling now?

Me: Better understood, at least by you.

Mibes: I try to understand and sometimes I do. But I don't have to try to love you, I just do. 

Me: It's a beautiful thing.

Mibes: So how you feeling about the brethren?

Me: Someone encouraged. But it's not just the brethren. It's that they're listening more to women leaders, and gay leaders. 

Mibes: You sound like you know this.

Me: I want it to be true. 

Mibes: So where do you go from here?

Me: I've got a blog entry to finish. Laundry to get out of the washer and into the dryer. How about you?

Mibes: I'm hoping to see you here more often. 

Me: Me too.

Mibes: I'll keep you in my prayers.

Me: I sometimes forget you're a man of prayers.

Mibes: wishin' hopin' thinking' and prayin' 

Me: Dusty Springfield

Mibes: 1964

(Breakfast in the Castro is an ongoing conversation between the fictional Mibes and the real me. Mibes, which rhymes with bribes, sprouted out of MBS or My Better Self, but has since developed a personality of his own.)