Mommy with a Penis

No Christmas after December 25th. Isn't that the unspoken rule? And anyone who doesn't throw away the tree, take down the lights, pack away the inflatable Frosty lawn decor should get fined lots and lots of money. I don't want to see any lingering holly or mistletoe, taste eggnog-flavored cappuccino, smell any roasted chestnuts or god awful peppermint scented candles, or watch the  Laverne and Shirley  rerun "Christmas Eve at the Booby Hatch " outside the month of December.   What is with people who cover their house with Christmas lights, run up electric bill, deepen their carbon footprint and yet refuse to take them down in a timely manner? Or as my cousin-in-law, Greg, so eloquently put it, "Get your Flocking Xmas tree out of the house, it's February already."  Three weeks ago, Sebastian had his regularly scheduled physical. He goes to Children's Hospital here in Los Angeles. And in this bastion of wellness there is, quite incongr...

It's a little known fact that Jodie Foster is my twin sister. Get out of town I can practically hear you say. But it's true. The Academy Award winning, husky-voiced actress of such seminal works as  Foxes  and  Freaky Friday (the original)   and your very own Mommy with a Penis are sibs. This out-of-left-field revelation might not be too hard to swallow considering Little Sis's (I'm older by fourteen minutes) penchant for privacy. But with her unusual and perhaps inappropriate coming out at the Golden Globes, I thought I'd shed some light onto this lesser known fact and come out a little myself. I can understand if there are nonbelievers out there, so I submit to you the facts: most obviously we have the same last name, we are exactly the same age (which she blurted over and over at the beginning of her Golden Globe speech, thanks a lot Jode), we are both children of California, and we both prefer to cavort with our own gender. And if that doesn't satisfy ...

I have never written about movie awards before but something magical happened to me this year that prompted me to change all that. For the first time in all the years I've been an active member of the Screen Actors Guild I was randomly chosen to be part of the elite SAG Nominating Committee for film.  What this means is that I got to watch a shitload of this season's films and then voted for who, in my estimation, should be nominated for the SAG Award in the following categories: best lead male and lead female, best supporting male and supporting female, best performance by a cast, and best stunt ensemble (go figure). It's an interesting film season, in that there isn't a decisive front runner in any category. Remember a few years back when Helen Mirren graced the silver screen in  The Queen ? She received endless accolades, sashayed down many a red carpet, and, according to IMDb , snatched up no less than 29 statuettes, plaques, ribbons and bangles portrayin...

I had no idea this would happen. Really.  The whole thing started with an innocuous phone call. LESBIAN FRIEND: How would you and Michael like to be interviewed for the magazine my wife works for? The article would be about gay parenting. Sort of like a real life Modern Family . ME: Cool. See. An interview. That was the extent of it. Emails were sent, phone calls were made, and before I knew it a photo shoot was scheduled to occur in my house. Now, one might imagine any photographer worth his or her aperture would provide his or her own equipment. But somehow the photographer that came to my house to shoot my family neglected to bring any lighting apparatus of any sort, and on a day that was fifty-two shades of battleship gray. Trust me, my bullshit meter was going crazy.  The photographer busied himself moving my living room furniture around, trying to find a glimmer of natural light (knocking my standing lamp over in the process) as Michael...

I know of a fourteen-year-old young man who was finally given permission. He convinced his parents to let him ride the train into the city to take a summer musical theater class. Every Tuesday and Thursday for six weeks he rode his gold Schwinn to the nearby suburban train station. After responsibly locking up the bike, the young man purchased a round trip ticket and boarded a San Francisco-bound train. Once in The City, he connected to a bus that would take him up Third Avenue and make a left onto Geary. This young man would then disembark at Union Square Park and walk two blocks west to the American Conservatory Theatre where the class took place. One day, as he was taking the train from the hustle and bustle back home he entered into what he considered a grown-up conversation with a well turned out  older man of twenty-five or twenty-six, who wore a light wool sports jacket of charcoal grey with brown pinstripes. The young man, now feeling confident with his life path, poured...

Scenario: You've traveled all day with your three and a half year old boy. When you get to your destination you see that your son's energy is at a all time high and the kid is bouncing off the linoleum. Do you... A. Help him get rid of that excess energy by running him around or taking him swimming which he really, really, really wants to do. Or... B. Turn on the cameras, tell him to settle down and desperately hope that he will. Bristol Palin, reality show personality and failed abstinence poster child, chose B. Instead of tuckering out the little bugger, she chose to lounge on the sectional with younger sister Willow and unsuccessfully attempted to talk Tripp into a state of calm Take a peek from Palin's what's-the-point reality show, Bristol Palin: Life's a Tripp . I have a fondness for the name Tripp. I myself am a Junior, and assumed at some point I'd have a boy who would be the third.  I looked at all the nicknames: Trey, Tirch, Trace, Rerun, D...

Dear Dan Cathy, Boy, have you taken your hits in the news lately. And to be honest, I don't think the bad press over your statements shooting down gay marriage is entirely justified. On the Ken Coleman radio show you pronounced our generation has "the audacity to try to redefine what marriage is all about." I, however, believe you, as CEO of the overly-hyphenated Chik-fil-A, not only have every right to say whatever ding-dong thing you please, but you also have the right to donate your personal millions towards any conservative, bigoted, homophobic cause of your choosing. Unlike many, I don't consider your words to be full of hate  (a word my mother taught me never to use), you simply were expressing your limited interpretation of the Bible, ignoring basic tenants like benevolence, tolerance and love. It might surprise you--me being a married gay man with two kids--that on this, Chik-fil-A Appreciation Day, I write to share my support. I am not a market...