Life with Keith, or The Whimsical Banjo Man

Herein is the Chronicle of my Life. It is mostly true.

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Name:
Location: Indianapolis, Indiana

Hey y'all! I'm a 30-something "Appalachian American" living in southern Indiana. Musician by training and right of conquest, by which I mean dissertation. Despite appearances I am in fact not a hobbit. Just so we're clear on that. Desperately and happily partnered to My Ain True Love but you can call him "Dom". We have an intensely entertaining if bloodthirsty "cat" who has a heart condition, asthma, a weight problem, a plush squid paraphilia, and the improbable name of Balthasar Anatole Romulus Potorti. I wish I was kidding. The other cat doesn't have quotes because she is adorable and angelic, but is amazingly named Erma Hestia Brigit Clytemnestra Collins. Still not kidding.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Did Someone Call for a Harper? or, Hang On, Let Me Just Put On My...



For all your weddings, civil unions, parties, wakes, and St Padraig's Day needs, call on

Keith the Whimsical Harper!

His harps come in two flavors, gut-strung and brass- and silver-strung.

He'll show up in a tux, tails, or whatever else your heart desires (no top-hat and tu-tu combinations though; baaaad experience once).

Rates are reasonable for the general public, and practically free for friends and "family"/family!

He's done weddings in knee breeches, faux Renaissance attire, jeans and a bolo tie, all black, all white, overalls and a wife-beater, cheesy Civil War clothing, and others. NB! small extra fee for Keith to appear in pointy shoes or in all green with a bowler hat. You know.

_____________________________________________________________

I'm not even kidding about the clothes people. Somewhere there are actually pics of me, Adam and Tammy playing banjo, guitar, and fiddle at a friend's wedding (Bryan if you're out there you owe me!). There was moonshine. It was flavored with watermelon Jolly Ranchers. How could I make that up??

I've also played dulcimer, baroque bassoon, modern bassoon, recorder, and crumhorn at weddings. I've done weddings officiated by rabbis, priests, Wiccan priestesses, Baptists, and Episcopals. I have been in weddings at waterfalls, horse barns, and a beautiful log chapel. For the bolo-tie-jeans-in-a-horse-barn wedding I put together AT THE BRIDE'S REQUEST a bassoon quartet. The wedding was on July 3 and ALSO AT THE BRIDE'S REQUEST we played marches by John Philip Sousa. She wore a mini-skirt, white off-the-shoulder top, and a long train which out-longed her skirt by at least two feet. He rode in on a white horse, and he wore jeans, black cowboy boots, and a tux top (but with a bolo, no bow tie).

In case you wondering, YES, I'M FOR SALE. I will play just about anything at a wedding. See, I have what I call the "Music Condom". This is an idea I had to cook up so I didn't feel like I was sullying my soul every time some doe-eyed sorostitute of a bride wanted me to play Randy Travis on the dulcimer at her wedding. Rather than get all Diva on her ass, I just put on the Music Condom and do what she wants. For a fee, of course.

Soul unstained, career untarnished, bride unvirginal. See? It all works!

Here we are again coming up on midnight. I had another nap today, this time sans quadrupeds draped over my person. It was invigorating! So I guess I'll get some sleep. It's raining peaceably and that makes me happy.

ttfn,

k

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Awake at Midnight, or I Had a Nap Today!

Greetings all!

Here I sit, typing again at a late hour. I'm awake, bored, vaguely hungry, and missing Dom like Crazy. I heard from my little world traveler. He is in Oaxaca, and had been for the previous days in Mexico City. While in the big city, he got sick (!) and obtained something unpronouncable from an apothecary. Then he was better and went to a museum, where I am sure he nearly fainted from excitement at tribal masks and other anthropological delights.

He is headed next to some place that sounds like Toxtlptliqutexotlpotl, but we could have had a bad connection. He might have said "Pueblo" instead. Either is a possibility.

For your viewing pleasure, I submit a secret: Dom and I are looking at rings. It's a funny thing. When you're one of Our People, you don't go through the whole seeking hand in marriage thing. Or should I say hand in civil union? Domestic partnership? I still like "spomo" = spouse homo. Anyway, we dated, we shacked up, it just seems like the natural next step. Not that it's recognized by the guv'ment or nothin', but still. I guess we could go Quaker, but I'm sure some of my friends at work would disown me. Maybe we'll go Canadian instead. I hear Vermont is nice. Not to live, just to go and get the paper. Of course we can and still may do it right here in the Rusty Bible Belt (=Midwest), paper be damned. At the very least we'll have a FABULOUS party.

I must admit, however, that I find myself daydreaming of a ceremony which includes superb, well-chosen music, and hand-picked attendants, all set to a translation of a Greek 10th century same-sex union ceremony. I TOTALLY want to wear a laurel wreath on my head at some point. ANYway, here's my ring of choice at the moment:



It's got Irish Wolfhounds on it!
Is maith sin!
(where are the diacriticals on blogger?)
Yay!










Also possible are the "Turkish" puzzle rings (not really indigenousto Turkey). We wanna find something that reflects our, um, unusual interests. Our interests include: Ireland (just say NO to Claddagh Rings!), Turkey (country, not livestock), Native America, cats and dogs, ice cream, shoes ("I'm gonna betch-slap you shet-bag!"; see Shoes post), woodsy outdoors, X-Men (Dom), Sci-fi (Keith), the colors blue and yellow (or for Our People "Cornflower" and "Saffron"), unicorns (Dom again), corn, black pickup trucks, yellow pickup trucks, sleigh beds, pants made out of linen, cat litter that makes our house NOT smell like Calcutta in July, native mask-making traditions, pirates and their lore, extinct or nearly-extinct languages, Stephen King, pizza, wine that doesn't suck, beer that doesn't suck, and Coke products, to name a few.

So maybe we won't have matching rings. But it'd be kinda fun if we did. Maybe we'll just say bugger it all and get matching tattoos. Or piercings. Or both! Or a puppy! [Just kidding Dom! Don't leave me!].

Sad fact: my parents won't/can't come. Happy fact: my sister and bro-in-law and nephew and foetus will! On the other hand, given how my mom behaved leading up to my sister's wedding maybe this is a good thing. And we'll have tens of friends there, I'm almost sure. Now we just have to find a place to do it where we won't get lynched. Yay America!

_____________________________________________________________



In other news, Balthazar woke me up on Monday hacking his evil little head off. Asthma attack. Dropped 90 bucks on the little snot. He made up for it today when he, Zeke and I had a nap on the couch. It was very sweet, if a little "Pet Semetary" somehow. Nice vet lady gave him 2 shots, and 2 bottles of pills. Now, it takes both me and Dom to hold the cat down to get pills in his little mouth. That's about 430 lbs of combined homo-mass per 10 lb cat.

Needless to say I value my digits far too much to try this alone. Instead I bought hypo-allergenic cat litter and have begun, Dom-style, to weave a little figure of the cat from his own rapidly-shedding fur. I'll have a little hoo-doo ritual and "get the good magic on 'im" and all will be well again. I just need to procure a few things. [*searches for chicken head, frog bladder, and Ouija board*]


Well my poppets, it's almost 1am and I need to be up and about tomorrow to try and build an extinct western European fretted zither based on one discovered in a barn in North Carolina in 1972. In other words, business as usual for Keith!

kisses,
K

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

The Rant, Part I

Ok dear Readers. I can't wait any longer. It's time for my first Rant. I promised myself I wouldn't cry......

I found a website today that caused the bile to rise up in my throat like so much sewage after a heavy rain in Indiana in July. It was the straw that broke not only the camel's back, but his resolve to restrain himself. I AM THAT CAMEL!

All right, that was lame. Chalk it up to exhaustion from yesterday's 300+ fasola singers (I led!). It was magnificent, moving, spiritual, also sweltering, 110 degrees, oppressively hot.

Anyhoo, here it is. Keep in mind I'm not a particularly religious person (don't trust organized religion), but I am fiercely spiritual:

Gay Does Not Equal Sin- a commentary by Me

Biblical literalists won't buy this and that's ok, but this whole focus on homosexuality as the root of all evil in our (American) society has gone on way too long. Let's examine, shall we?

Old Testament: we can dismiss these injunctions for Christians since Jesus wiped away the old covenant and brought the new covenant. Yes, Leviticus says homogenital contact is abomination. Also abomination are the eating of pork, lobster, shrimp, catfish (fish must have scales to be clean), and the wearing of blended fabric. Just for fun my partner and I go out to Red Lobster and wear cotton/linen blend and eat all the crustceans we want. We call it Abomination Night. Variant: pizza with ham and bacon. Yummy!

New Testament: The four gospels, the words of Jesus himself, say nothing about homogenital sexual acts, same-sex attraction, or anything else that can be construed as "gay" in the modern sense. Paul's letters, on the other hand, are more explicit. I've personally not been very keen on the idea of taking Paul so seriously. He never met Jesus in the flesh, was not one of the original disciples. More on that later. Anyway, he tells us in Romans 2: 21 that because men "neither glorified Him as God nor gave thanks to him," God gave men "over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another" (Romans 2:26-27). He's saying that men were inflamed with lust for one another as a punishment for their behavior.

What the heck did I do that God would make me lust after men? According to Paul, homosexual desire was at some time caused by men who "exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles." I have never once worshipped an image of anything, man, bird, animal, or reptile! To my knowledge, neither has anyone in my family. So that doesn't make much sense, does it?

Onward to 1 Corinthians 6: 9-10. This is from NIV, by the way: "Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor homosexual offenders, nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God."
The word translated here as "homosexual offenders" is actually in ancient Greek arsenokoitai. From the 16th century onwards it was translated variously as masturbators, perverts, child molesters, sodomites, etc. It's meaning is still hotly debated by Biblical scholars, and no one can say with certainty what it does or does not mean.

Incidentally, in the next chapter, Paul expressly recommends that "It is good for a man not to marry" (1 Corinthians 7:1). The very institution conservatives say they are trying to protect is perhaps not so very necessary to Christian life after all, if we take the Bible literally, and if we take Paul seriously. Paul admits that these are his thoughts, not edicts from God. I think the religion is "Christianity" not "Paulianity".

Regarding taking Paul seriously, 1 Corinthians goes on to say that "If a woman does not cover her head, she should have her hair cut off" (11:6). And I say, Woe unto ye as would cut off the hair of any of my myriad blue-haired, church-going aunts! They're ornery, Appalachian, and they can kick. Paul also says "...it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church." (14: 35). Just an observation.

Why on earth do we as a society focus on gay marriage so much? I'm frankly baffled. Clearly male Biblical literalists are forbidden to have sex with other men. But why not rally instead on the love of money, or the high divorce rate (which is, according to Luke 16:18, adultery if either party remarries)? There are in western European history precedents for church-based same-sex unions from as early as the 10th century in Greek, and later centuries in Old Church Slavonic (see John Boswell, Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe Random House/Vintage Books, 1994). We would not invent anything new by allowing gays to have the same advantages of domesticity as straight people. Call it civil unions, marriage, partnership, I don't honkin' care.
But taking the Bible literally leads to preachers with signs of nooses as the solution to gay marriage (see my blog http://lifewithkeith.blogspot.com/2006/06/being-repressed-or-crazy-people-in.html)

Matthew 7:1-2 "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Think about it!

Further Reading: Daniel Helminiak. What the Bible Really Says About Homosexuality. Alamo Square Press, 2004.
Also anything by John S. Spong, former Episcopal Bishop of Newark, NJ.

The End of Part I.

much love,
Keith

The Funniest Video EVER, or "Shoes"

O gentles all, I must inform you of this fantastic video. I shan't say too much, for fear of spoiling it. It is by a BRILLIANT comic named Liam Sullivan.

I realize many of you who frequent the net will already have heard of this. For the rest of you, proceed posthaste to:

http://www.liamshow.com/videos.htm and click on SHOES.
NOTE: some profanity, so beware if you're at work/church/grandma's.

Also of note is the song "Text Message Break-Up" at http://myspace.com/kellylikesshoes. I'm still giggling.

I showed it to a couple of Breeder friends of mine and they didn't get it. Stupid boys!!

That's all for now. Dom returns in a week [weeps silently]. People can call me and I'd appreciate it....

xo
keith

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Just Me and the Livestock, or Dom's on Vacation

Hello my dearies! I know no one is reading this drivel anymore, but I can't seem to stop myself. I think I have invented a new disease. I shall call it "bloggarrhea." Being a brand-spankin' new affliction, it will have to work out it's place in the pantheon of my other dysfunctional body processes. I can just hear it:

Irritable Bowel Syndrome: "Bitch, you get up off from bein' all in my stuff!"
New Affliction Bloggarrhea: "Oh no you did'n!"
Hypertension: "You go girl!"
IBS: "Who you callin' girl, girl?"
Hypercholesteremia: "That's really uncalled for."
NAB: "Shet the feck ep, skank!"
Primary Hypogonadism: "All y'all need to pipe down; I'm watchin' my stories."

Sigh. You get the idea.

Anyhoo, Dom has fled the country, oops, I mean "gone on vacation" to Mexico with some family members. And "family" works both ways here, people. if you know what I mean. I would have gone, too, except that Bloggarrhea's half-brother Diarrhea would have come a-callin' with some rather unpleasant results. I don't do well with la cuisine Mexicain. Also, my vacation time is my mostest precious commodity, given that I have yet to defend my dissertation.

This leaves me home alone. With the Pets. Our Quadrupeds. The Livestock. They Who Must Not Be Named. Actually, their names are already known unto ye who read this. Balthasar is just over one year old now (yay terrible twos!), and Zeke Whippet turns 6 in December (yay terrible sixes!). Behold:






They LOOK so sweet and innocent, don't they?

Shortly after this was taken, Zeke killed three juvenile squirrels in the yard, and Balthazar was sent away to a Convent For Wayward Kitties.














Actually, I have to give Zeke props. Here he is looking forlorn. I call your attention to the kitten, who is happily gnawing on his tail.


















Here it is, "hiding" in the sink, ready to spring and attack unsuspecting passing Zekes. Perhaps a few sammiches short of a picnic, but kudos for trying, right?
It has also of late taken to leaping onto Zeke/me/Dom/the couch/a fly/the curtains/nothing in particular and then zoom off to avoid punishment. Devious, this one is.










And here's My Ain True Love (with apologies to Alison Krauss). Yes, that is a tattoo of Turkey on his arm. I miss him when he's gone! Usually I'm the one who's away: gigs, teaching in Texas, selling body organs for food, etc.

Incidentally (or Was it?) I got a call from him just as I was typing this. He had just dined on, and I'm not making this up, congealed blood, crickets, sliced kidneys, beans, and chicken soup.

In case you're wondering I gave up congealed blood for Lent. And for After Lent. Also, For Ever. I had McDonald's for supper, which is not unlike the above menu in many ways.














And then randomly, this is my friend and co-worker Aili. She has a great smile, stunning red hair, her own home, and a winning personality to boot. Why is she single? Why WHY???!!

Oh yeah, because "Boys are dumb."

Here's to Aili and finding that one boy who is smart enough to let himself be caught!







Well my darlings, that is all for now. I'm almost ready to write a Ranting Blog where I wail on everything and everyone from W The President, my credit card company, student loans, Indiana University's residency requirements, my parental units, the Ex-gay movement, the oil industry, AM radio (the conservative talk shows have corrupted my dad), fundamentalist Christians, pants that don't fit, my job forbidding me to have facial hair, and cherry-flavored soft drinks (they ALL taste like cough syrup).


TTFN!
Keith










Saturday, July 15, 2006

Hello? Testing....Testing...

Does anyone actually read any of this, or am I just doing it to amuse myself?

Just wondering.....

[Translation: SOMEBODY POST A COMMENT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD]

kisses,
ckc

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Poetry Time! or, Bored Again

A Limerick

A woman who played cor anglais
Was cremated in a dress oh-so gay.
Her friends opened her ossuary,
Found the remains of a cassowary,
And commenced then to cry out "Oy veh!"
________________________________

Haiku About My Life Recently

Zeke Whippet is dumb.
Suitcases make him upset:
He thinks we're leaving.


Our cat poops a lot,
But not always in the box.
Colostomy bag?

Zeke is no better
And tends to pee on our things:
"Sorry, was that yours?"

Dom is now in Mexico,
Leaving me and the pets here.
I want a cookie.

MBNA sux.
"Why haven't you used your card?"
"Because my rate bites!"

I lie to children
And play dress-up for my job:
I am overdrawn.

He who mows our grass
Is definitely a queer.
How did he find us?

I hope that one day
The government will wake up.
I fear it's too late.

Student loans are bad.
Apparently six figures
Means no house for me.

My sister's pregnant
And it took on the first try.
Big Jim is a stud!

I miss my nephew.
His name is Joseph Orlin,
He likes playground slides.

I am haiku'd out
And need to eat some supper.
I'm thinking pasta!


K

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Wildlife on Lake Erie, or: Snakes, Eaglets, and Siblings, Oh My!

Hey y'all! On this episode we'll view some of the "nature" which is to be found on Lake Erie's Islands (this does not include the creepy sorostitutes from universities in the midwest who flock to Put-in-Bay's imaginary tropical paradise, nor does it document their male counterparts called "frat-o-skanks").

First up today is the Lake Erie Water Snake. This is a protected species which has made a grand comeback in recent years. Funny story: on one of my first trips to Lake Erie I spotted a LEWS lounging in the water around my sister's legs. The only thing I could think to say was "SEA SNAKE!!!!" which resulted in my sister rising from the sea and walking, nay RUNNING, upon the water. It was quite funny.






















Next is an egret (I think). Majestic and graceful, these and other crane-like birds are thought in many cultures to represent heaven, the otherworld, divinity. In Irish folklore, cranes, geese, and swans are believed to be fairies traveling in disguise. Huh.




Please note the daring use of reflection in this composition (*cough cough totally an accident cough*).














And now that most majestic of birds, our national symbol, the Bald Eagle. This is a juvenile who has not yet attained the white head. The nest is in the lower right corner. We saw the adults off and on, but they were never still for very long.




This is the nest I mentioned in an earlier post as abutting the new landing strip on the island.















Here's a rare critter. I managed to capture on film the oft-reported but rarely-documented Committed Monogamous Homo. This variety does not frequent the bars like most. Instead he is content to stay close to home with his lifelong mate. Needless to say I blowgunned him and took him home.







Finally, here are a pair of Collinses. Short but jovial, they enjoy humor, and are apt to laugh a lot when gathered together. Don't piss them off, though. They spit and throw their own poop.















Well, that's it for this episode. Thanks for tuning in and we'll see you next time!

later,
K

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Isle des Fleurs, or Middle Bass Island (sounds better in French, non?)

Hey y'all

I had the distinct pleasure of returning to one of the nation's lovliest places, off the coast of, um, well, Cleveland more or less. But towards Toledo. Anyhoo, it's a house on an island in Lake Erie, mere miles from Canada. And while the lake was not on fire ("That hasn't happened in YEARS now") it was exhibiting worrying signs of the algae bloom currently plaguing some of the other Great "Lakes" (read "Cesspool"). The dead fish were a tip-off that something might be amiss regarding the lake's health. Not just one or two, but more like 10 in the course of 4 days. Big fish, like carp and bass and the Loch Ness Monster and stuff. However, the good news: there is a breeding pair of Bald Eagles, yea and verily our National Symbol, upon the island. The bad news: they unwisely chose as the site for their eyrie a tree right next to the AIRPORT.

How it is possible one can build an airport (landing strip really) abutting bald eagle habitat is vexing to me. Oh wait! I forgot: Ohio is where certain elected officials have been recently accused of shocking abuses of power. And isn't Ohio the state that majorly fecked up the last "election" (I use the term loosely)? Huh.

So enough ranting. Here are the latest Images of My Life:





These are my peeps, Kristy and Jim.
They're the best "family" I could ever want!






















This is my little peep, Joey. He loves him some ice cream! That's the Perry's Victory and Peace Memorial in the background. Take that, UK!

"The Peace Memorial is closed indefinitely due to high-wind damage from recent storms" Sounds like a Republican conspiracy to me...








Kristy and the Podling (she's with child!), and Dom with a stick.













Yay babies! Yay Kristy and Jim! Yay Canada (in the background)!




















Here we are, looking relaxed and groovy at Put-in-Bay.
"South Bass Island: Pretending It's the Caribbean for Pasty-Skinned Upper Midwesteners and Canadians Since the War of 1812"
There are fake palm trees here. I'm totally serious.

You people abut CANADA. Drop the fake Carribean crap and move on.




So there are totally like a bunch more pictures, but when I got the CD back from Target they gave me the wrong CD. Instead, I have a stunning and evocative photo essay of Some Little Girl's Ballet Recital. Which means SLG has a CD of me. Hugging Dom. And stuff. So let me give a shout out to some family in Greenwood IN who has now seen a photo of Dom with his arm draped jauntily about my person. Just my shoulders, mind you, but still.

More to come, as always! Including: why our pets are like unto a boil on the butt of humanity (hint: lots of poop in all the wrong places is involved!)

Keith