Krysten and I went to a story slam at the Istvan gallery last night. It was a holiday-themed evening, with people telling stories about Christmases past. It was alright. It wasn't The Moth, but it was entertaining, and there was a decent audience there, sitting on folding chairs in a chilly empty gallery. For a ten-dollar donation I got all the cheap box wine I could drink, and a couple of hours of stories.
There were a couple storytellers that needed a gong... or maybe a long hook. One woman in her 60s did this hideous "I'm getting nuttin for Christmas" thing in the persona of a little kid... complete with red cap turned slightly sideways. It was dreadful. Another woman went up and did this bizarre, pointless thing where she pretended to be Marsha Brady. It was utterly heinous. Very highschool improv. It made me long for death. But with those exceptions, the rest were all genuine stories, decently told. The woman who won did a really very good job, so I'm hoping there are more like her out there.
The next slam is on Jan. 16, themed "Friends in Low Places," and I will encourage folks to go. The more slammers there are, the better the stories will be. And Oklahoma City needs a thing like this. I really want it to succeed. I'm trying to come up with a good story to tell. Lord knows I've got plenty of material on that particular theme....
This morning the wind is howling around the apartment again. Putting my hand to the window glass, I find it is also wicked cold. Another good day for staying in. Grayson is spending the weekend with Gray and so I have the place to myself. I think I'll make some muffins this morning, do some laundry, read a book. Laze about. Tonight I have a Christmas party to go to with Biff.
Who's Biff?
Some of you may have caught the very short-lived entry I posted about him last week. It was brief, humorous, and quite tongue-in-cheek. But I realized later that I had sacrificed truth for impact, and I have since taken that one down. I'll start over, this time with a focus on truth with a little less crafting for comic effect.
So, I'll try this again: Who's Biff?
Biff is a guy I met on Match.com three weeks ago. He's 40, has his own IT consulting company, and is more than a little obsessed with cycling. We met for a beer, we hit it off, we've been going out since. I like him. He has a more-than-slightly sarcastic sense of humor, a shaved head, a nice pair of eyes, and what seems to be a genuine interest in me. It's amazing the power of receiving someone's undivided attention. He looks and me and laughs... I must be beautiful and hilarious.
We've been exploring new restaurants, (there's a new Moroccan place that is really good); trading music (the man has a play list to die for), introducing one another to favorite movies (Ever heard of The Boondock Saints? Neither had I), trying new things (absinthe sucks), and sharing war stories from our respective recently terminated relationships. Oh, and drinking copious amounts of beer and wine at various local establishments. We get along swimmingly.
Our first stumbling block occurred when I introduced him here on Scrawlspace, characterized him as a republican, and wrote a couple of paragraphs riffing on that theme. I thought I was being funny, he thought I was reducing him to a charicature. In a way, I was. I had trotted out all my own fears and prejudices, wrapped them up in words and pasted them to him. When I looked back over it, I realized it wasn't fair. It was funny, but it wasn't really fair, and it didn't say anything about who he is or how I feel about him. So I took it down.
This is part of why it's good for you to know lots of different types of people. It keeps you honest. It keeps you open and aware of the complexity and wild diversity of the people around you. You can't make a bunch of knee-jerk stupid gay jokes if you have dear friends who are gay. You can't sit in silence and accept black jokes if you have chosen family who are black. And you can't let yourself tar all republicans with the same condescending left-wing liberal brush if you're dating one. It was a lesson in self-discovery. I was way inside my box, looking out. I needed to look back at myself a bit.
So there have been some very good things that came out of that experience. We spent a few evenings asking questions of each other over the web: do you believe in God? Taxes? Gay marriage? Evolution? What should we do about the war? We didn't always agree, but we each probably got some answers we weren't expecting, and I don't think either of us got any answers we couldn't respect.
So who is Biff? Well, I don't know, exactly, yet. But I'm verrry interested in finding out. I'll keep you posted.
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