Black Friday, Rachel Ray, And Anthony Bourdain

I woke up quite early on Black Friday. It was 4:30 AM or so. My brain was barely functioning, but I still managed to drive my car to various shopping areas. Best Buy was packed, so I drove to some other locations. I eventually made my way to Kohls. And, once inside the store, I rushed to the kitchen and dinning area. Of course!

I walked around, looking at various items of interest, when out of nowhere something obscene hit my poor, unsuspecting retinas. Pictures of Rachel Ray were everywhere. On cookbooks; on various products; there was no escaping this woman. It was quite annoying. Ok, I admit that I have watched her on the food network from time to time. And she’s making money and doing well in the entertainment world. Good for her. But she doesn’t deserve to be idolized as a culinary deity by the American public. Let’s reserve praise for chefs and culinary experts who deserve it.



Anyway, let’s move on. If you’re a fan of the wonderful Anthony Bourdain, then you have to listen to his discussion with the Commonwealth Club of California. Anthony never disappoints. He talked a little bit about Rachel Ray. But he mainly focused on his life, television show, and other interesting topics. Enjoy!

What Would Letitia Baldrige Do?

First, I must tell you about Letitia Baldrige. She is an American author and expert in matters of taste, etiquette, and public relations. She served as public relations director for Tiffany and Co from 1956 to 1961. She then went on to serve as Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy’s social secretary while the Kennedy’s were in the White House. I know; this woman is amazing. She actually worked at Tiffany’s while Blake Edwards was filming the phenomenal film Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Letitia even met Audrey Hepburn. How wonderful is that?

I like Letitia for several reasons. To give one example, I completely agree with her that civility and good manners can make the world a better place. Oh, and anyone who worked for Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy wins a gold star from me. I could write a whole post about that and the fabulous Jacqueline Bouvier! Ok, let’s get back on track here. The one thing that bugs me about Letitia is the fact that she was born in the 1920s and raised during a time when women were expected to conform to certain societal rules—rules that were designed to keep the average American woman in a subordinate role. Now, I’m not saying that people who were born in the early 1900s should not be trusted; I’m just saying that her perspective may reflect a system of values that is no longer necessary in contemporary society. Below is a sample of her writing, taken from Letitia’s website.

Thinking Outward - Many people think manners are irrelevant today. It's just the opposite. They have never been more necessary for a peaceful, healthy society.
Manners are not elitist or foppish. They are the way in which we interact with our fellow men and women. Much of the unhappiness, sadness and failures in the world today stem from those who go through life unaware of the importance of anyone else around them. They have no time for kindness.

Good manners result from thinking about someone else. They are a question of heart. That's it. The moment you wake in the morning or the minute you go outside the door of your home, the respect you show for the people around you, equals the quality of your manners. They are an exercise of the heart, not of money...

Again, I couldn’t agree more. The practical significance of this concept is far-reaching. Making others feel comfortable and respected can do wonders for business and life! It’s surprising how many people fail to realize the importance of good manners.

My former college roommate and I had an interesting conversation while we were both undergraduates in South Carolina. He, a true Southern gentleman, was from North Carolina. And we both agreed that some women, particularly women from the Northeast, hate for a man to hold the door open for a woman. Why is that? I’m sure Ms. Baldrige would consider that quite appropriate. My roommate even encountered a woman who became annoyed by this very gesture. Let’s just say, if looks could kill, my friend would be dead.

There are, of course, other examples, and I could go on and on about this topic. But I’ll conclude by saying that times have changed. I was raised in a family that expects all of its members to adhere to certain rules of propriety. I just can’t help but wonder if these rules are no longer necessary. And my biggest concern is that these societal rules may be doing more harm than good (e.g., subordination of women).

Click here to listen to Letitia Baldrige on the popular NPR program Wait Wait . . . Don't Tell Me!

The Idea of Touch and Group Dynamics

I attended a friend’s art exhibition last night and was pleased to see many familiar faces. My friend, a young artist, greeted me at the door of the art gallery; he was visibly excited and anxious. Who wouldn’t be? After engaging in a little small talk for 20 minutes or so, I walked into the gallery to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Large Jar
Korean Yi Dynasty (17th Century)

For most people, deciding what is beautiful or artistic happens in a matter of milliseconds after seeing some object; seriously, it’s almost an automatic response. We often find if difficult to articulate why we like or loathe something. Experiencing art is, of course, a very subjective thing. Our perception of objects (or ideas) is influenced by past experience and present motivational state.

My friend was exploring the idea of art that could stimulate (the senses and mind), without actually coming into contact with the body’s sensory structures. For example, some pieces seemed to resemble chewing gum and similar objects; I guess the observer was supposed to imagine how the object would feel in his or her mouth. Other objects were created to stimulate our touch receptors—or, the idea of touch, as we couldn’t actually physically touch the objects. His use of rich textures and familiar fabrics was very effective.

After the exhibition, a group of us wined and dined at a nice little restaurant that wasn’t too far from the gallery. It was an interesting mix of people. After dinner, we headed to an “upscale” bar. Most of us were academics, artists, musicians, and writers. Actually, there was only one writer, a young woman from California. Gay men were very well represented. As I enjoyed the company of my friends, acquaintances, and a few new people, I noticed a few things.

First, my friends and I have been through this whole routine many times before. Most of us are in our late twenties and early thirties, but there are a few people who are in their late thirties. We attend these types of events on a regular basis—various art shows, music recitals and concerts, and so on. In fact, I’m a member of a choral group. We perform about three times a year (yes, I have to wear a tux), and my friends are always there to support me and the chorus. It’s interesting that my friends and I have become very accustomed to this sort of thing. We seem to follow a similar script every time. We’ve become somewhat predictable, and the conversations are usually the same.

Thank goodness for young blood, those new individuals eager to become a part of our group. To be honest, we aren’t a perfect cohesive group. We’re more like a collection of like-minded people. Friendships seem to develop almost over night, and they die just as quickly. And there are times when I only hang out with a select few. I'm a reserved person. Some of the new people are younger. The exciting part is learning more about them and trying to establish some common ground. But there is no question that they are entering our world and must adapt to our particular rules and idiosyncrasies. Their ass kissing skills are quite impressive. It’s fun to watch them perform.

One of the newbies, a 24-year-old Latin guy, approached me at the bar. He told me about his life is Miami and a recent trip to Europe. He made a few silly comments, and I laughed when appropriate. I’m a good listener. As he talked, one thing came to mind: I wondered what it would be like to touch his body—his neck, a bicep, lips. Yes, the idea of touch can be very stimulating. The fun eventually came to an end; we hugged, exchanged numbers, and went our separate ways. God, I love Latin men.

A Gold Star for Tabatha

One can only imagine what it was like the day Tabatha, one of the stylists on Shear Genius, was born in the city of Surfers Paradise, Australia. She probably developed at an unusually fast pace and hated other children her age. Poor Tabatha probably grew up hearing her mother say the same phrase day after day: “stop making the other school children cry.” It must have been hard growing up with an ego the size of neighboring New Zealand.

Tabatha eventually left Australia and ended up in . . . New Jersey? Hm, yes, that appears to be the case (according to tvbuddy.com). Anyway, Tabatha currently owns a salon and travels all over the world as a stylist for Joico International. She had it all, but Tabatha wanted more. As mentioned before, she is a stylist on Bravo’s new reality show Shear Genius.

Now, I don’t have to preach to the choir. Tabatha is a force to be reckoned with. Tyson, that silly, silly man, tried to bring her down, but he did not succeed. Tabatha laughs in the face of danger. She doesn’t seem to experience basic emotions like compassion and fear. No. She is a diva! Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to announce that Tabatha has earned a gold star and the title of “coolest Australian on American reality television.” Here at Blog by Cosmo Marius, a gold star is reserved for all that is great in this world. Congratulations, Tabatha. You deserve this recognition and more.



Before moving on, please note that Tabatha is not deformed. I repeat, she is not deformed. I inadvertently erased one of her ears. Sorry, I'm still learning how to use photoshop. Anyway, my dearest Tabatha, there’s more. Please accept the adulation from your compatriots.


Olivia Newton-John, you must bow down to the great diva. And, yes, “she’s the one that you want.”


Hugh Jackman, you, too, must bow down . . . and feel free to take off your shirt at any time. That type of behavior is encouraged here at Blog by Cosmo Marius.


Nicole Kidman, you know the routine; please bow down . . . and maybe you can learn a thing or two from Tabatha.


Paul Hogan, please take off your hat and bow down . . . Hm, I wonder what Paul Hogan is up to these days.


I want to make it clear that no creature is exempt. Even the notorious dingo must bow down . . .


All the kangaroos that roam the great Australian continent must also bow down . . .


The adorable koala must also bow down . . . Seriously, how cute are these little guys?

Ok, I think you get the picture: I want Tabatha to win! I’ll conclude this ass kissing session with a picture of Tabatha. She’s one tough cookie, and that’s why I like her.



Give ‘em hell, Tabatha.

A Character to Love

***SPOILER ALERT***

A major part of the moviegoing experience is one’s reaction to one or more characters. In some cases, we may identify with a single character. We root for the underdog or cheer on as the nice guy tries to get the girl. At other times, we are simply fascinated by a particular character, good or bad.

I enjoyed Nancy Meyer’s film Something’s Gotta Give. Some have argued that the screenplay isn’t that original. And others have noted that Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton are not really acting—they’re essentially just being themselves. There is some truth to both arguments, but I liked the film for several reasons.



I really like Diane. She’s intelligent and talented. In Something’s Gotta Give, she played Erica Barry, a successful playwright. Although this film isn’t groundbreaking, it is unconventional in its portrayal of an aging woman. I hate how aging women are often portrayed as asexual matriarchs. In this particular film, Erica had what appeared to be a perfect life. She was divorced but happy, and there was no indication that she was in any hurry to find the perfect man. She was content with her life as a single woman.



Erica finds love under unusual circumstances. She fell for her daughter’s much older suitor, Harry (played by Nicholson). Harry, of course, is the typical playboy who loves younger women. His relationship with Erica was short-lived but intense. He ends up breaking her heart. So, that’s kind of typical of other movies, but Erica turned around and wrote a phenomenal play. She moved on and started dating a younger and much hotter man.

Although the film is predictable and trite in a lot of ways, I just couldn’t get enough of Erica Barry—of Diane Keaton. She cried when she saw Harry with another woman. However, during a conversation with her daughter, she explained that one has to take risks in life—something her daughter tended to avoid. She loved and accepted loss as a part of life, and that’s why I found this character quite memorable. Erica Barry is a strong woman. She is a character to love!

What Makes a Winner?

A few weeks ago, Japanese figure skater Miki Ando won Gold at the World Figure Skating Championships. The defending world champion, American Kimmie Meissner, finished a disappointing fourth. The amazing Sasha Cohen was noticeably absent.



Expectations were high for Sasha last year at the 2006 Olympic Winter Games. She was the favorite, but she faced some tough competition from Irinia Slutskaya, a very talented Russian skater. I saw Sasha perform for the first time in 2001. She took my breath away. She skated with such elegance and maturity that seemed to belie her young age.



Throughout the years leading up to the 2006 Olympic Winter Games, Sasha blossomed into a phenomenal skater. She started 2006 with a bang by winning gold at the State Farm U.S. Figure Skating Championships.



Many, including me, thought she was unstoppable. However, she was vulnerable. Commentators kept on referring to Sasha’s inconsistent record. There were times when she just couldn’t deliver.

Sasha, like Michelle Kwan before her, left Torino without the gold medal. It’s not clear whether Sasha will compete in the next Olympic Winter Games (in 2010?). That would make me very happy, but I guess we’ll have to wait to find out.



Most of us have experienced defeat at one time or another; it’s an unavoidable part of life. Usually, a friend or relative will utter the all too common phrase “winning isn’t everything.” Those words are comforting. In our culture, receiving the top prize or a perfect score is highly desirable. And some people are driven by a need to be number one; some will do whatever it takes to achieve this, irrespective of the costs. In a perfect world, the best person comes out on top. At the outset of a competition, we often hear people say, “may the best man win.” That doesn’t always occur. Lady luck was not on Sasha’s side that day in Torino. Her athletic ability betrayed her, and that was her downfall.

Although Sasha didn’t win the gold, she did walk away with silver and a great short program skate. I remember sitting at the edge of my seat during her short program. What a spiral sequence, her signature move. What grace. She was spectacular. At the end of her performance, Dick Button was exuberant. It was such a great feeling watching her deliver a magnificent performance. She may not have won the gold medal, but she did win the respect and admiration of her peers and many viewers. Fortunately, most of us have experienced great moments of success. We may not always win some fancy trophy or pretentious title, but we often take for granted those other days—when we earn someone’s admiration, affection, or respect. And isn’t that really what winning is all about?

Fun with TV: Ugly Betty and the Cuchi, Cuchi

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears that Salma and America had a terrible fight on the set of Ugly Betty. Salma went crazy and started firing people left and right. Bad move, but Salma is one smart cookie. She managed to find replacements. Betty White will play Ugly Betty; Erik Estrada will play Betty’s father; and Charo will play Betty’s sassy sister.



Ok, that’s not really true. I just needed some fictitious story to go along with this picture. The real story isn’t quite as scandalous. In reality, Charo, Erik, and Betty were invited to participate in a small skit for the 2007 TV Land Awards. Oh, but I would love to see Charo on Ugly Betty. You can’t go wrong with the cuchi, cuchi.

Grindhouse and the Cheating Pecker

I’m really looking forward to the new Tarantino-Rodriguez double feature Grindhouse. I’m not sure if I can handle all the gore. It’s not usually a problem for me, but something tells me this film is going to really push the limits of goriness. Eli Roth contributed a faux trailer (more blood and guts). I’ve seen it, and there’s no question that Eli is one sick puppy. I actually think he’s kind of hot. Rose McGowan and Rosario Dawson both star in this potentially awesome project. I hope Grindhouse lives up to the hype.

There’s something that’s been bugging me for the past few weeks. First, let me just say that I like Rose McGowan. She’s edgy and unconventional, which is great. Good for her. Now, on to the bad; Rose is a home wrecker. Yep, she had an affair with Robert Rodriguez, a man who has been married for over 15 years. Oh, he also has five children. It gets worse. Some have reported that Robert was screwing Rose in his trailer, while his wife was on the set. She’s a co-producer on Gindhouse, and she has produced most of his films to date. There’s probably more to the story, but everything I’ve read seems to suggest that he cheated on his wife, plain and simple.

Hm, I wonder if Paulette Bonafonte has any words of wisdom for Mrs. Rodriguez?


"He's a guy who followed his pecker to greener pasture. Sure, you’re a successful movie producer, but you’re middle aged (with stretch marks) and you have a fat ass."

Paulette’s interpretation of the situation may seem right, but it’s not! I don’t think he followed his pecker to greener pasture. He made a stupid mistake. He threw away over 15 years of companionship for a brief (and meaningless) fling. Honestly, I doubt he and Rose are going to live happily ever after. She’ll probably move on to the next producer, actor, or whatever (maybe another shock rocker). I guess that’s life.

Six Feet Under: The Last Episode

I love watching reruns of Six Feet Under on Bravo. Last night’s episode was really depressing. Ruth and David were both dealing with Nate’s death. Ruth was particularly upset about not being able to keep Maya. Frances Conroy, who plays Ruth, does a wonderful job of bringing this character to life. Ruth is my favorite member of the Fisher family.



I think Lauren Ambrose is amazing as Claire Fisher, but I’ve always been ambivalent about the character. I admired Claire’s rebellious impulses but never quite liked how unreasonable she could be. Last night I saw a different Claire, a more mature young woman. What a great way to end a show. Watching her drive away from the Fisher house was very emotional. And as she drove down the freeway, we saw glimpses of the future—of her family members dying. Death, after all, was a major part of the show, and it reminds us that death is a reality we all have to face sooner or later. However, before that times comes, I plan to enjoy life to the fullest and love as passionately as possible, just like Claire Fisher.

Music and gay parenting

Mondays are pretty routine for me and usually uneventful. After work, I join about 150 singers (and wannabe singers) and we spend about 2 hours singing wonderful (and not so wonderful) choral music. I’m a tenor, and, fortunately, my section is one of the best this year. Our choral director usually has two nervous breakdowns a month. His biggest challenge is getting a bunch of Southern women to lose their Southern drawl, at least temporarily. Articulation and vowel shape are important in Choral singing. I love when he says, “When you sing, I want you to pretend you’re a snooty European. Don’t sing like Dolly Parton. I repeat; don’t sing like Dolly.” It cracks me up every time.

Mathew St. Patrick & Michael C. Hall

After choir practice, I love to just relax at home, check my email (repeatedly), and watch a rerun of Six Feet Under on Bravo. I’ll just repeat what others have said about this show since the beginning. It’s phenomenal—great actors, great writing, and the list goes on. The show’s writer/creator Alan Ball has a dark sense of humor that is wonderful.

In recent episodes, Keith and David both decided they want children. They were debating whether to adopt (David’s idea) or hire a surrogate mother (Keith’s idea). This debate hits close to home because I’ve been thinking about the same thing. Honestly, I should first find a partner before I consider having kids. Let’s just say I’m looking for Mr. Right. Wish me luck. This issue raises too many questions to list here; so I’ll attempt to address a few.

Question #1: Are gay parents capable of providing adequate parental care? Well, according to one study, children of gay parents fare just as well as children of Breeders. A homosexual orientation doesn’t preclude the expression of nurturing behavior.

Question #2: Are gay men even capable of nurturing a child? It’s clear that most gay parents are lesbians. That makes sense for so many reasons. The number of gay men who are parents is probably much lower. My biggest concern is that men (gay or straight) just don’t have the neural circuitry that is needed to (properly) care for a child (or anyone for that matter). Seriously, where would we be without women? One could argue that gay men have feminized brains; sure, there is research to support that, but, in some ways, gay men are a lot like straight men. Let’s not kid ourselves boys; the average man (gay or straight) is more promiscuous than the average woman. I guess there’s no way to really answer this question. I think we should all just turn into birds. The vast majority of bird species are monogamous; well, some argue that they’re not truly monogamous, but I won’t bore you with the details.

Monogamous birds are so cute

So, I really do want to be father some day. I don’t know if I’m capable of providing the same type of parental care only a mother can provide. I know my brain is at least partially feminized—I watch Bravo and love Madonna, for crying out loud. I guess that’s a good start.

Where have all the Anglo-Canadians gone?

Inga Skaya, Miss Canada 2007

When it comes to beauty pageants, Canada and Italy seem to be on opposite sides of the spectrum. Please let me explain. Canada loves to send non-Canadian delegates to international beauty pageants, and in 2005, that strategy paid off—Russian born Natalia Glebova was crowned Miss Universe. I saw the pageant and remember being surprised that Natalia spoke English with a Russian accent. In my opinion, she won the MU title for Russia. Anyway, a few days ago, another Russian woman, Inga Skaya, won the Miss Canada crown. Where have all the Anglo-Canadians gone? Actually, it’s great that judges and officials of the “Beauties of Canada” Association welcome immigrants with open arms, especially if those immigrants happen to be gorgeous Russian women.


Natalia Glebova, Miss Universe 2005

Italy is a different story. In 1997, a lovely Black woman named Denny Mendez won the Miss Italy title. Well, some people weren’t too thrilled, and a few judges even protested Denny’s success. “She's not Mediterranean,” said one of the judges. Fortunately, she was allowed to represent Italy at the MU pageant and she did a great job. I should also point out that most Italians supported Denny. Way to go Italia!


Denny Mendez, Miss Italy 1997

V for Virus

I spent the last few weeks recovering from a viral infection. I’m doing much better now, but the experience has certainly changed my outlook on life. I won't bore you with the all the details. Let's just say I felt powerless during the worst part of the infection. I was always tired; I couldn’t concentrate; and my body didn’t appreciate that I tried to feed it ribs and Mexican food. My doctor said that my immune system could have been compromised by stress. At first, I thought that was nonsense because I’ve never had trouble dealing with stress. However, the weeks leading up to my illness were very stressful. So, there may be some truth to what the doctor said. I’ve learned a valuable lesson: when my body needs a break, I better listen.

On the other hand, it sucks that my body doesn’t listen to me. For example, I wish my body would stop storing excess calories as fat. I’ve told my body numerous times to just let those extra calories get excreted as waste (I know that sounds gross, but I’d rather have that happen than have to run who knows how many miles to burn off excess calories). It’s not that I’m a lazy person; I just don’t have the time to be spending hours at the gym. Anyway, I guess that’s life, and I’ll just have to deal with it.

Reminder: don’t forget to watch Demitri Martin’s special on comedy central; it airs on Sunday at 10 PM.

My Atlanta story: sushi, beer, a woman, a boy, and a lost debit card

I recently spent a few days in Atlanta on business. The first few days were kind of boring. I met with old friends from different parts of the globe. Most of them are academics and usually only talk about politics, research, and various social issues, which is cool. However, I get tired of hearing the same old crap. Yes, Bush and the Republican Party suck. Tell me something I don’t already know.

One evening, 8 of us met up at a cool Sushi place on 10th and Piedmont. I think that’s in midtown Atlanta, but I may be wrong. Anyway, some of us had a few drinks with dinner, while others, including yours truly, had more than a few drinks. And that’s when things started to get interesting. I was seated next to a cute Asian-American woman, a friend of a friend, and she was asking me all sorts of questions about growing up in Texas. At first, it was cute, but then her questions started to annoy me. I should never have told her that my father is a foreigner with a funny accent. She had a field day with that one—asking me all sorts of questions. Did my dad experience culture shock? How did he feel about the American way of life? I told her that my dad was like Antonio Banderas—he can survive almost anywhere. You may not understand a word he’s saying half the time, but he’s still the man! I think the alcohol was starting to get to me at that point. My attention shifted to the other end of the table when someone yelled out something about loving Sean Cody. Yes, the guy who uttered that name was an over-the-top effeminate gay man (OTTEG). I like him—he’s very entertaining. Oh, I have to talk about the boy. One of the guys who joined us for dinner was from Western New York. He was from Fredonia or went to school there; whatever. It was kind of funny because we couldn’t figure out who had invited him to dinner. Eventually, we figured out that the OTTEG had invited him. We all knew he wanted to get into this kid’s pants; it didn’t work. The whole time during dinner, the boy from Western New York kept looking at me and smiling. I would take turns smiling at him and answering my new (annoying) Asian friend’s questions. I must say, the boy was easy on the eyes. However, he’s not my type. I’m not attracted to prepubescent boys. And, yes, my mind was in that special place called the alcohol buzz.

We left the restaurant at around 10 PM, and made plans to go to a gay bar that was just down the block. A few of us were running low on cash and so we headed to an ATM machine that was right across the street. We had a good time at the bar. And, at some point, the boy started flirting with one of the older guys of the group. Before we knew it, both of them left the bar and took a cab to the older guy’s hotel room. “What a whore,” exclaimed the OTTEG as the boy and older guy walked down the stairs and headed to the nearest exit. Most people agreed with him. I did not. “Let the boys have their fun”, I said to the group.

The following morning I woke up feeling refreshed—ready for a new day. I was sharing a room with a coworker. She’s, um, well, interesting and well behaved when she’s on her meds. While I was getting dressed, I noticed that my debit card was missing. Remember, I wasn’t fully functional because of the alcohol the night before. So, of course, I probably left my card in the ATM machine on 10th and Piedmont. I called my bank right away to report the card missing. I’m sure the older guy banged the hell out of the boy from Western New York. There’s a happy ending for ya! Other than that, there’s really no moral to the story. It’s just a day in the life of Marius.