moocow in the city

one cow. many pastures.

October 2007

open pasture

When it Rains, it Pours…

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R.I.P. Lee Bassen

A dear family friend, Lee, passed away last night. She was a miniature artist (as well as a very talented painter) and a friend of my Mom, Margie and a family friend as well. She was older and in poor health, but she was one of the most talented artists I’ve ever known…whether on canvas or in miniatures, she had the ability to make an entire room come to life. She will be missed.

CSE-111

…I think ‘combat situation’ is putting it mildly.

Margie

Has broken her leg

Steve

My next door neighbor (since I was three) is currently loosing the battle to colon cancer, and my dad had to build him a wheel chair ramp a couple of days ago…

Israel

…I’ll post about this in another post…a more, um…uplifting and positive one?

open pasture

What Could Have Been

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What Could Have Been (10/21/2007)
Matan Ar’ye Schwartz

His hands tracing your abs. His voice telling you little white lies that everyone wants to hear: you’re so beautiful. I love you. I’ll never leave you. You’re the only one for me. Come to bed:kiss me:hold me. Days and nights of passionate love, weekends of parties, booze and drugs.

And now you’re getting on your coat and you’re heading to the doctors as he’s saying “baby please don’t go” and you lie too “I’m just going to go to the store, no you stay in bed, I’m just going to get a paper, some milk, some eggs…you know the basics” as your hand print remains fresh on his ass…your body telling me that you’re scared, your voice shaking only slightly.

And You’re getting on your coat and he’s saying baby please don’t go:such a charming scene…when was the last time he used your name as if you were a human? When was the last time he used your name as if he respected you?

The pills you ate by the bag seem so sinister now, so foolish as you reach for the flask at your hip and take a swig like you’re trying to hide at the bottom. And you head to the clinic where nurses and doctors in lab coats draw blood and now you wait as the minutes tic by to form hours that form days that form weeks as you wait for two of them/fourteen days to pass moving around your house:work:your family, alive but not really living…you’ve already begun to think of yourself as dying.

Your phone goes off, the results for an exam you didn’t want to pass are in: with our condolences, you aced it. And people ask if you’re okay as you start to sniff and I know that you’re not, but you tell them that you’re ‘fine’ that it’s just this darn ‘allergy season…’ but you can’t fool me as you hang up your phone and shut your office door for a few moments of self reflection…I’ve been in love with you since the first day I met you and I know that you’re hurting.

Did you lay on him, let your semen stay inside of him? Did you believe him when he told you that he’d never leave you? At least that’s the one promise that he gave you that will ring true every morning when you look in the mirror, ’cause now part of him will always be a part of you as you run the race to beat the clock, to beat the game, to walk the fundraising walks that continue to fund the research that fund the new drugs to help you cheat death as this devil cheated life from you…and it didn’t have to happen, a condom didn’t break/you choose not to wear one and he chose to cheat on you.

He said he’d love you forever and now you’re standing at your front door not wanting to go in, as your hand reaches shakily for the doorknob and you open the door and walk in, he looks up at you as you tell him that you know he had been cheating: he slapped you across the face and tried to deny his act of treason: but now you get to scare this demon straight as you walk in/grabbing him by the wrists and making him listen to reason:now you as the angel of death impart the news that it wasn’t you who was the one who had been cheating and that you were drug and disease free up until the moment that you met him…and now you’re both infected.

You say that you’re going out for air, that you need some time to think, that you’ll be back later and you walk around until the moon rises and is high in the night sky, and then you walk back to your apartment…and hopeful that he’s still there, you open the door and find that your apartment is empty: he’s gone, taken his clothes and possessions with him…left his cell phone that you paid for on the counter, and a note saying that it would be best if you ‘just forgot him’ and he didn’t leave an address or a telephone number where you could reach him.

And now I’m standing in the living room with you; your arm around my shoulder, and for someone who usually towers over me at six foot five to my five foot five even, somehow you seem like you’re shorter, you’re still so beautiful, with your muscles, and your hair, and your good lucks…and ‘we pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living’, but I can’t help but mourn the loss of what could have been: a life together with you as more than my friend. I told you I would love you and treasure you and that all I wanted to do was exist inside your smile, that I thought you were funny and smart and kind…and you said in as nice a way as possible that people like you didn’t date people like me, ‘pretty people date pretty people you know how it is’ you told me…and as your arms wrap around me now, and your body shakes while crying, you hug me and I thank God that I’m not a ‘pretty person’ as I stroke your hair and breathe in your scent, not wanting to let go…afraid I won’t know when I’ll never get to hold you again as I whisper ‘we’ll get through this’ in your ear.

Two coffee mugs on the table, one on the floor in pieces.

open pasture

What Could Have Been

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What Could Have Been (10/21/2007)
Matan Ar’ye Schwartz

His hands tracing your abs. His voice telling you little white lies that everyone wants to hear: you’re so beautiful. I love you. I’ll never leave you. You’re the only one for me. Come to bed:kiss me:hold me. Days and nights of passionate love, weekends of parties, booze and drugs.

And now you’re getting on your coat and you’re heading to the doctors as he’s saying “baby please don’t go” and you lie too “I’m just going to go to the store, no you stay in bed, I’m just going to get a paper, some milk, some eggs…you know the basics” as your hand print remains fresh on his ass…your body telling me that you’re scared, your voice shaking only slightly.

And You’re getting on your coat and he’s saying baby please don’t go:such a charming scene…when was the last time he used your name as if you were a human? When was the last time he used your name as if he respected you?

The pills you ate by the bag seem so sinister now, so foolish as you reach for the flask at your hip and take a swig like you’re trying to hide at the bottom. And you head to the clinic where nurses and doctors in lab coats draw blood and now you wait as the minutes tic by to form hours that form days that form weeks as you wait for two of them/fourteen days to pass moving around your house:work:your family, alive but not really living…you’ve already begun to think of yourself as dying.

Your phone goes off, the results for an exam you didn’t want to pass are in: with our condolences, you aced it. And people ask if you’re okay as you start to sniff and I know that you’re not, but you tell them that you’re ‘fine’ that it’s just this darn ‘allergy season…’ but you can’t fool me as you hang up your phone and shut your office door for a few moments of self reflection…I’ve been in love with you since the first day I met you and I know that you’re hurting.

Did you lay on him, let your semen stay inside of him? Did you believe him when he told you that he’d never leave you? At least that’s the one promise that he gave you that will ring true every morning when you look in the mirror, ’cause now part of him will always be a part of you as you run the race to beat the clock, to beat the game, to walk the fundraising walks that continue to fund the research that fund the new drugs to help you cheat death as this devil cheated life from you…and it didn’t have to happen, a condom didn’t break/you choose not to wear one and he chose to cheat on you.

He said he’d love you forever and now you’re standing at your front door not wanting to go in, as your hand reaches shakily for the doorknob and you open the door and walk in, he looks up at you as you tell him that you know he had been cheating: he slapped you across the face and tried to deny his act of treason: but now you get to scare this demon straight as you walk in/grabbing him by the wrists and making him listen to reason:now you as the angel of death impart the news that it wasn’t you who was the one who had been cheating and that you were drug and disease free up until the moment that you met him…and now you’re both infected.

You say that you’re going out for air, that you need some time to think, that you’ll be back later and you walk around until the moon rises and is high in the night sky, and then you walk back to your apartment…and hopeful that he’s still there, you open the door and find that your apartment is empty: he’s gone, taken his clothes and possessions with him…left his cell phone that you paid for on the counter, and a note saying that it would be best if you ‘just forgot him’ and he didn’t leave an address or a telephone number where you could reach him.

And now I’m standing in the living room with you; your arm around my shoulder, and for someone who usually towers over me at six foot five to my five foot five even, somehow you seem like you’re shorter, you’re still so beautiful, with your muscles, and your hair, and your good lucks…and ‘we pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living’, but I can’t help but mourn the loss of what could have been: a life together with you as more than my friend. I told you I would love you and treasure you and that all I wanted to do was exist inside your smile, that I thought you were funny and smart and kind…and you said in as nice a way as possible that people like you didn’t date people like me, ‘pretty people date pretty people you know how it is’ you told me…and as your arms wrap around me now, and your body shakes while crying, you hug me and I thank God that I’m not a ‘pretty person’ as I stroke your hair and breathe in your scent, not wanting to let go…afraid I won’t know when I’ll never get to hold you again as I whisper ‘we’ll get through this’ in your ear.

Two coffee mugs on the table, one on the floor in pieces.

open pasture

Why I Care That Dumbledore is Gay, by Matan

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Okay, first I’ll throw this out here to address the argument that “why do gay people constantly have to flaunt their sexuality.”

Everyone else’s sexuality doesn’t have to be stated, because for the most part it’s implied. Implied by who they date, who they marry, who have they have children with, who they can kiss in public without having an uproar started, who they cast glances at (all of this covered in painful detail in the book, and in the epic amount of fan fiction that’s been written about the series).

The reason most of us care (perhaps, the majority, given the demographic that makes up most of the fandom) is because we’ve been in fandom for years (I used to belong to one of the larger sites admin-ing the chat room before we closed down and it was something I talked about, for the period of around four years, for most of my day…I was eating, sleeping, or talking Harry Potter). I’ve made life long friends (we’ve gone to their weddings, gone to their houses, celebrated life cycles, mourned passings, laughed and cried together). Overall, we’re excited because it gives us more to talk about, another reason (not that we need one) to re-read the entire series, more ways of writing other fan-fiction, exploring things that we previously didn’t think to explore…I was (and am) so into Harry Potter I went to another country for Book Six and sat around, and did nothing but read the book…in a room full of close friends who were doing nothing else, but reading the book and enjoying each others company.

As far as why it’s important for the Gay community? He’s a prominent figure in the book, is arguably one of the most influential reasons why evil doesn’t take over the earth (he founded the Order of the Phoenix) and is incredibly well educated – hallelujah we have a Gay Character that isn’t there for comedic effect or to die of AIDS breaking out of the usual archetype of Gay characters in the media…it’s about damn time…and oh, he’s not pedophile either (the third Archetype).

And knowing JKR, and knowing to what extent she researched her book (I did a 30 page paper on it and her, single spaced, when I was in High School some six-ish years ago and I could have written a few hundred pages more – and would have – if my teacher didn’t stop me). I highly doubt him being Gay was an afterthought…her Characters are personal for her so she may not have wanted to mention it publicly, but she certainly smiled about it privately while writing the book and certainly knew about this aspect of the character as she was laying pen to paper.

This isn’t a publicity stunt, she doesn’t need any more people to purchase her book – she has more money than the Queen – and there’s only so much you can earn a day before it really just doesn’t matter anymore…there’s volumes of books that can be written about each characters back story, their upbringing, their families…she’s created a world like many other literary greats before her (Tolkien, etc) and those worlds have the ability to have infinite numbers of pages dedicated to them…so we’re excited to have one more thing to discuss and to debate, and to banter about over beer with friends.

…though personally, I was hoping it was Sirius…oh man, oh man…why couldn’t it have been Sirius?

open pasture

Why I Care That Dumbledore is Gay, by Matan

moocowinthecity No Comments

Okay, first I’ll throw this out here to address the argument that “why do gay people constantly have to flaunt their sexuality.”

Everyone else’s sexuality doesn’t have to be stated, because for the most part it’s implied. Implied by who they date, who they marry, who have they have children with, who they can kiss in public without having an uproar started, who they cast glances at (all of this covered in painful detail in the book, and in the epic amount of fan fiction that’s been written about the series).

The reason most of us care (perhaps, the majority, given the demographic that makes up most of the fandom) is because we’ve been in fandom for years (I used to belong to one of the larger sites admin-ing the chat room before we closed down and it was something I talked about, for the period of around four years, for most of my day…I was eating, sleeping, or talking Harry Potter). I’ve made life long friends (we’ve gone to their weddings, gone to their houses, celebrated life cycles, mourned passings, laughed and cried together). Overall, we’re excited because it gives us more to talk about, another reason (not that we need one) to re-read the entire series, more ways of writing other fan-fiction, exploring things that we previously didn’t think to explore…I was (and am) so into Harry Potter I went to another country for Book Six and sat around, and did nothing but read the book…in a room full of close friends who were doing nothing else, but reading the book and enjoying each others company.

As far as why it’s important for the Gay community? He’s a prominent figure in the book, is arguably one of the most influential reasons why evil doesn’t take over the earth (he founded the Order of the Phoenix) and is incredibly well educated – hallelujah we have a Gay Character that isn’t there for comedic effect or to die of AIDS breaking out of the usual archetype of Gay characters in the media…it’s about damn time…and oh, he’s not pedophile either (the third Archetype).

And knowing JKR, and knowing to what extent she researched her book (I did a 30 page paper on it and her, single spaced, when I was in High School some six-ish years ago and I could have written a few hundred pages more – and would have – if my teacher didn’t stop me). I highly doubt him being Gay was an afterthought…her Characters are personal for her so she may not have wanted to mention it publicly, but she certainly smiled about it privately while writing the book and certainly knew about this aspect of the character as she was laying pen to paper.

This isn’t a publicity stunt, she doesn’t need any more people to purchase her book – she has more money than the Queen – and there’s only so much you can earn a day before it really just doesn’t matter anymore…there’s volumes of books that can be written about each characters back story, their upbringing, their families…she’s created a world like many other literary greats before her (Tolkien, etc) and those worlds have the ability to have infinite numbers of pages dedicated to them…so we’re excited to have one more thing to discuss and to debate, and to banter about over beer with friends.

…though personally, I was hoping it was Sirius…oh man, oh man…why couldn’t it have been Sirius?

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