I went home to meet my roomie Mike, his girlfriend/fiancee, my other roomie, Amanda, is being visited by her parents this week. They are having some scheduling problems trying to keep her parents and his parents happy for the Labor Day weekend. Why do parents put so much pressure on their kids to visit? Then again, mine never ask me to visit, so…

My first (and only) movie to attend tonight wasn’t scheduled until 9:30. Amanda was out with her folks so, eventually Mike and I went to Taco Cabana for dinner. It was a Friday night and the fancier restaurants were way too crowded. And we wanted somewhere we could get a drink. So we went to TC. As we sat, drank and talked, I noticed a really cute, young, and obviously gay guy sitting at the table across from us with another guy and a girl. They had a pitcher of Margaritas too. The guy was flitty but not inordinately so and I was really attracted to him, distracted from Mike’s dialogue on numerous occasions. (Mike is quite used to this from me). Anyway, what’s important about this is that after the cutie left, a hunkier, straighter, blonde Adonis jock type came and sat at the table and I immediately dismissed him as “too straight” in my head. Directly after doing this I caught myself and was floored. I couldn’t believe that I would lust after a gay boy as opposed to a straight one. If anyone knew me before I met J.K. they would see the absurdity of this evolution. Too straight! Too straight! I don’t think I’ve ever said these words in my life. To think them seemed, well, unthinkable. And yet I did. Wow.

Went to The Metropolitan a little after 9 and got in line for “Gay Propaganda,“ a series of shorts with classic movies reworked to include gay characters. Johnny Oh! Had went to “The Wedding Video” and “Dildo Diaries” on this day and “Diaries” wasn’t over yet. They were still having their Q&A. So, even though it was close to 9:30, the theater wasn’t open.

There is a blurb in this weeks Austin Chronicle “Short Cuts” column by Marc Savlov about the film and how the Austin-American Statesman refused to use the word “dildo” in print. (Wow, spellcheck on Microsoft Word doesn’t recognize it either). They called the film, simply, “Diaries.”

After the Q&A was over and people filed out, I saw Johnny and told him I would save him a seat. We were finally seated in the small theater. Agliff has two theaters at the Metropolitan, one smaller than the other. There was already a huge line for “Gay Propaganda” and I couldn’t believe they were putting it in the smaller theater when “Sex, Politics and Cocktails,” the film showing opposite, had the smaller crowd. Agliff has added “Gay Propaganda” to its Sunday TBA slot, so I thought maybe they were trying to sell-out the small theater to drive audience members to the Sunday TBA. Still, in the back of my mind, I was sure they had put us in the wrong theater. And, sure enough, after about five minutes, they had us get up and move over to the other one. At least no one else had been seated there yet.

While I was in the smaller theater, there were two guys behind me talking about various films, including “Dildo Diaries” and “When Boys Fly.” One of them started saying horrible things about Todd, the 35 year old man in that film, and saying what a monster he was so I turned around and said, “What are you talking about? That guy is my hero.” “Yeah, right,” was the response I got. I didn’t argue my sincerity with him

Eventually Johnny came in and sat next to me and we chatted a bit. After the first short played, he turned to me and started telling me he had talked to the Camarades boy that I think is cute but am too shy to talk to. (There are large gaps of nothing between shorts at festivals, which is usual, so John and I had plenty of time to whisper to one and other). He told me the young man’s name, that he wanted to meet me, and that he seemed very flattered. He also told me that he had a very high-pitched voice. My head was spinning a bit.

Anyway, the films in “Gay Propoganda:”

Many of them were just reworkings of classic and popular films simply using a gay cast of actors. None of these were particularly effective or funny. I don’t know what I expected, but I thought it might be a little more than this, or a little more interesting. Perhaps what works best about these shorts is that they prove just how interchangeable (unimportant?) gender and sexual identity has become in the new millennium. These reworkings with gay characters, or gender switches, seemed like mere weak imitations of greater film.

Of the 10 films in the program, only one wasn’t available for viewing, a lesbian reworking of “Moonstruck.”

“Casablanca,” “From Queer to Eternity,” “Goodfaigolas,” “Polterqueer,” and “Reservoir Dykes,” were all rather lame. “The Gay Graduate,” which was also a lesbian reworking, was one of these too but it worked much better than the other simple facsimiles here. “Taxi Lesbian,” a take-off on “Taxi Driver” had a much better idea behind it without just being about the lines of the original film being recited by actors who look like the original actors (but are sometimes a different gender), in sets that look similar to the original sets.

But, for me, a gay man, the best of the bunch was “Hung Frankenstien,” a literal reworking of the scene in Mel Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein,” where the monster takes Madeline Kahn to bed for the first time. The young gay guy who played the Kahn role was hilarious! It worked perfectly.

There were three films in the program as well that had absolutely nothing to do with cinema (and one that did). I can’t figure out what most of these films were doing in this series of shorts. They not only didn’t fit, two of them were just bad.

The opening film, another short by Randy Eisenberg (presumably of NYC), was funny and vibrant and deserving of 3 snaps up, girl. This was called “Nothing Too Painted” and it did start with a scene that seemed reminiscent of several other film, with a gay guy at a psychiatrist’s office. This film wasn’t based on an idea that was all that original but it did have a really nice queer sensibility, good acting, good direction, good technical skill involved, and was humorous. Eisenberg’s film “Two Big Fags” is also playing at the fest and is funny as hell.

The film that fit somewhat was a spoof of 50’s educational films that were purportedly done by a doctor about male, teenage sexuality. Again, there was nothing really original here, but it was funny and sexy as hell. There were several young male bodies suggesting or demonstrating masturbation techniques and it was pretty damn hot, even in black and white.

I won’t say too much about “Quacks like a Duck,” by Steve Ferger (the only filmmaker in attendance) except that it didn’t make any sense. I think it was trying to reaffirm gay stereotypes by suggesting that if a man is effeminate, he is gay. Then again, maybe it was a suggestion that this stereotyping is wrong. Whatever Ferger was trying to say, I didn’t get it. And the film failed to be amusing or interesting although the acting and technique of the film were consummate.

And now the cinematic atrocity. This film had no opening titles and made no sense. It eventually turned into a claymation piece about a dog in love with a chicken. It was made by Don Thomas and it was listed in the program as “Pedro and Tony?” the question mark indicating that even Agliff didn’t know what to call this piece of dung. It was horrid and so fucking long. It made no sense and was a complete waste of time and celluloid (or video or whatever). Words cannot express the utter awfulness that is this film. It’s the first cinematic train wreck I’ve seen in a while. Someone again needs to remind Agliff that quality should be the first criteria for including a film. Just because it’s probably the only gay claymation piece ever made is no reason to show it. It has to be worth my time to see it. This film was horrible. It left a bad taste in my mouth, as if I had been eating Play-Dough rather than watching it be molded into a cinematic mess.

Anyway, Johnny and I were discussing this film during the black between shorts and I was bitching about how bad it was and someone said, “Shut up.” Johnny was very upset by this. I’m used to people not wanting to hear my opinions, so I tried not to let it bother me. I know it is a mortal sin to talk during a film, but during shorts, when there is only black on screen and silence on the speakers, isn’t it okay to talk softly? I say yes. Perhaps I should have whispered a little more quietly.

After the films, we had decided to go out, and I knew since J.K. wasn’t in town that I wanted to go to Boyz Cellar. It is Last Splash weekend in Austin so it is supposed to be more crowded but it really wasn’t. All the bartenders were wearing briefs and Johnny knew a few people here and there. I saw J.K’s roommate and some young guy that is friends with him (and J.K). I also so the guy that J.K. knows from Tapelenders who I met at the opening party. I walked up to him and said hi and (probably since I was wearing the same shirt as the last time) he snapped to who I was after a second and then gave me a huge hug. (I suddenly realized just how cute he is). His boyfriend Taylor is apparently a big drag queen in town but is really hot as a guy. He wasn’t in drag tonight but he was shaking his thang out on the dancefloor with a Cher lookalike drag artist.

The little cutie who looks like Harry Potter that Johnny and I saw at the Forum a few weeks back was working. This reminded me of the lil cutie I met there a few weeks ago who was hot and young and obviously gay and yet had tattoos all over his body (cute ones!). So we went to the Forum to see if he was working but it was $5 to get in and we decided against paying that. Why pay to get in there when Boyz Cellar and Oil Can’s is free? We went to Oil Can’s and it was packed. We walked out the patio and walked around a bit but I didn’t see anyone I knew. It was nice to rub up against the cute guys in the crowd but the music is so awful there.

We went back on the street and a guy Johnny had been eyeing was out there, so Johnny went to talk to him and I went back to Boyz Cellar for a bit. I looked and looked all night and could not find one guy who I thought was cuter than J.K. (I sent him a text message saying so). Johnny met up with me and we ogled Harry Potter a little more and then went to Katz’s for a late dinner.

There is a table for two in the front, windowed alcove of Katz’s. Johnny and I have been seated there before and it is the cruisiest place I have ever been. We got seated there again! I am never going to sit anywhere else at Katz’s. I’ll wait two hours for this table if I have to. We had perfect timing and got there about 1:45am, so after the bars closed at 2, a plethora of people, many hotties, passed right by our little display case. We ogled and meowed and vibed and cruised every cute guy that walked by. One hot guy looked me right in the eye and I vibed the fuck out of him and he smiled and vibed me back. It was awesome.

There is a cute waiter at Katz’s named Dustin that knows Johnny and I am really hot for him. When I got back from the bathroom, he was talking to Johnny and Johnny introduced me and said I’d been wanting to meet him. We had a cute waitress and somehow, I can’t remember how, Dustin’s name came up and she said she had made him get the haircut he had (it did not suit him) and I told her I thought he was hot.

Anyway, we ate slowly and cruised and talked and had a blast. While we were sitting there, it rained briefly, soaking the streets and the shirts of some hot guys walking in. Eventually Johnny and I were eyeing this one guy and he was still outside as we left. We stood and talked for a minute while he was on a payphone and then walked behind Katzs where he had gone, looking for him. (I don’t know what we were going to do if we found him). This is totally alien to me but something, I think, Johnny has a bit more experience doing. It reminded me of the scene in “Prick Up Your Ears” where Orton and Halliwell cruise the guy in the park.

Anyway, we didn’t find him but we did discover this cool little walkway that goes between Katz’s and Ninfa’s. We got back onto 6th and headed towards our car and I heard a crack and felt a sharp pang on my back. Since it had recently rained, I thought perhaps a piece of wet plaster had fallen from an awning or something but then I saw a broken egg laying on the sidewalk ahead of me and Johnny said something like, “I’m glad that didn’t hit me.” I told him that I thought it had hit me and he looked and I had some broken egg on my back.

You know, I would have been happy if the egg were thrown by somebody who knows me from my website or cable access show or something and was aiming for me. That would be sort of cool. But it was just some random fratboy prank. How dreadfully drab. Johnny got some wet paper towel and cleaned off my back. Not because he’s a good friend and felt sorry for me – but because the egg would mess up his seats. He’s so anal about stuff like that.

Lodger (sunny side up) @ Agliff 2002