Well, yesterday I screwed up my timing, whisking Mr. Dallas to SFMoMA at 10, when it opened at 11, trying to get him in and out and back for his lunch date at noon, and then shifted gears and decided to conduct a little tour of the Embarcadero, the new Oldenburg/Van Bruegen sculpture, and the remodeled ferry building, which also turned out to be not open, the official opening a day away, although a door was open, so in we wandered… only to be escorted out by a very friendly woman who asked us gingerly if we had passes, to which I replied, no, but would you like to escort us out of the building? She did, but we did get to see the entire interior before being booted, and it’s great–In the early 90’s, I frequently had to meet Port Authority officials there to secure permits for various Secession Gallery installations, and remember feeling very disoriented–as if offices had been plopped into some grand architectural space with no relation to it whatsoever. Now you can see what’s been hidden for the past 50 or so years. They’ve uncovered the skylight, which spans the entirety of the vast interior, restored the mosaic floors, and are now opening various commercial spaces to local vendors, and the Saturday Farmer’s Market is now going to happen right in front.
So anyway, continuing with our touristing, we ventured to the wharf to see the sea lions at Pier 39. Dallas and I held hands while making our way through the gawking visitors waiting to board the ferries, intent on guiding them into an awareness of homosexual affection. The only way to change the world is to be visible, and it was empowering, if not my homosexual duty, to hold hands with this big hairy tourist. Two fairies strolling past the ferries. A Japanese tourist even took our picture.
I got Dallas back in time for his lunch with Loren, a successful bear porn artist guy, who was a real sweetie. Loren returned Dallas to me in time to get to Reese’s 4th grade production of Really Rosie (Reese played Pierre). I had to pry Loren and Dallas’ lips apart to get them out of my garage, I never thought of my garage as a particularly romantic spot, and to the play on time. But we made it, and they play was sweet. Reese was, of course, completely fabulous, projecting and gesticulating enthusiastically. I was the embarrassingly proud step-dad laughing and clapping way too loudly. My little star.
We met up with Big Chris for martinis (a virgin Cosmo for Dallas), dinner at Basil Thai, and then an evening with Matmos and Victor at the Stud. I’ve only conversed with Victor electronically, so it was a supreme pleasure to finally touch that incredible beard of his and admire his smartly coiffed poof of neck hair. Alas, our evening of dancing at the Stud with Victor lasted a full 15 minutes before the eyelids of the tired bears started drooping, and to home we split.