First off, just saying the word metro today has an eerie and utterly devastating connotation. My thoughts and prayers go out to the families who lost loved ones in that horrific accident.
It is even the more painful, knowing how many people have been forced to take public transportation because they cannot afford gas. Not that public transportation is bad… hardly… but perhaps they would not have been on that train at all.
Or perhaps they would have. Taking a bus or train is better for the environment and leaves less of an individual footprint in the world. Believe me, I wish LA had a better public transportation system, but it’s hard being as spread out as LA is.
Anyway, our neighbor’s college roommate was on the train and was, in fact in the first car. But our neighbor called her and told her not to go all the way to Santa Clarita; that she would pick her up in Chatsworth. So she got out of the first car, off the train and drove to Agoura with our neighbor… avoiding serious injury if not death. Wow. That shook me deep. And again… random or act of a higher being?
I was watching the news the other night and saw an accident similar to mine, where someone ran a red light. But in this case, the driver of the car that was hit, died. Could have been me… And so on my new journey and search to find answers and spirituality, I have to say “there but for the grace of G-d go I.” Or “there but for the random acts of the universe, go I.” The jury is still out for me on all of this.
Wow, that was way heavier than I wanted to get. I was all set to talk about being a metrosexual. And I am, a purple digging, Sephora card carrying member of the Club de Metrosexual.
If you have more “beauty products” than your wife, then you’re a metrosexual.
If you go to and put on wine tastings and can talk about nothing else for the entire evening, then you’re a metrosexual. Okay, you could also be classified as a wino or wine freak, too… but you see where I’m going with this.
If you love Broadway musicals and Sondheim, but don’t want to date him, then you’re a metrosexual.
Okay, enough of the Foxworthy riff… there are plenty of un-metrosexual wine tasters and chefs. Even though it may be a “Simon Cowell” type act, Gordon Ramsay scares most of us.
And by the way, if anyone wants to take me to his new place in LA, I am totally open! Really. No, I’m serious.
See! See what I’m saying… knower of all the good restaurants around the globe and affectionately referred to as the “human Zagat…” metrosexual!
So, on paper… I’m gay.
Off paper, not so much. Sorry fellas, but as much as I support your right to marry, I love the ladies.
I do however appreciate the fantasy and perhaps naïve notion that with two men, there is not a lot of “honey I’m not in the mood” going on. Hmmm…