BAT DUDE AND THROBBIN

"Cum Crazed Criminals!"

directed by: Ansel Rainier and Vincent DePaul (1989)
Starring: Beau Beaumont (Batdude), Kevin Young (Throbbin), Danny Bliss (bar pickup), Ken Bower (The Poker), Mitchell Cook (Alley Hangout), Eric Degiorgio (chained slave), Marc Peugeot (Sugar Kane), Robert Reyn (The Peeper), Frank Strong (The French Tickler) , Manuel Javier Gomez (Mountain Captive).

Oh gosh, what to say? It's hard to tell if Beau Beaumont is doing a great job being bad, or just plain bad. And then there's the age-old porn problem - letting the actors speak. The "Peeper" has such a thick accent, it definately adds to the fun.

Who wants to see a clip from Beau Beaumont's best movie - the 1989 "classic" BAT DUDE AND THROBIN?

(Yeah, I know I already did that in 2002, but most of you weren't reading this page back then; besides, it's an auction tie-in.)

I don't think I'd ever fall for a straight guy, but everytime I listen to one of the two Yo La Tengo CD's I have, I am so impressed by the guy's sweet, vulnerable singing, that I realize that it's possible. Of course, to keep the fantasy going, to allow me to have these thoughts each time I listen to their music, I have to make sure never to look for specific pictures, or even to find out the band member's name who whispers Tears Are In Your Eyes and Don't Have To Be So Sad. But some of the music is so intimate, so beautiful, that I can imagine this guy waking up beside me in bed, in the early morning hours before the sun comes up, seeing me awake, worried, insecure, and whispering sweet little reassurances.

scroll over my body

I should be doing other things, but a link from an AOL chat profile brought me to this guy's site with a cheesy mouseover thingee (sorry for being so technical). I suppose I am only making fun of him because he is self-described as "naturally masculine and sexy", - and it took years of post-graduate work for me to get my maculinity. Jealousy isn't pretty, is it?

I'm sure I'm not the first person who's been mindlessly trolling the AOL chatrooms with the TV on in the background, then turned abruptly to the TV when I thought I heard a M4M-sounding theme, to see it's only a slogan for a fast-food chain.

I've been trying to spare y'all the dozens of snapshots I've taken each day of the mourning doves nesting on my window sill - but this one is my current favorite - I took it yesterday morning before work. I can hear them flapping their wings, and I know they'll be gone soon. But I have to say it's one of the best ways to begin the spring, these two new cute little bits of life right outside my bedroom (not to mention the dedicated parents, who take turns chick-sitting, and who've returned to my window sill for the third year in a row so far.).

love at the post office

As I am putting the kickstand down on my bike in the little lobby of the 3rd st. post office, I see a guy with a big box behind me. I start to open the door for him, but he insists he has it. When I try to let him go ahead of me thru the 2nd door, he gestures for me to go first. Tall, bearded, handsome. I love him. I get in postition in line, and turn sideways, nonchalantly looking back towards him. His profile as beautiful as his , uh, frontview(?), I try not to stare. I notice another man come in, stand right behind him, and ask the guy "want me to wait with you?" Not quite as handsome, but still a good-looking man; he glances in my direction as his pal says "Naw, I'm fine by myself, catch up with you later." A slight frown as he leaves his box on the ground, and walks out. Meanwhile, my guy is so purposefully not looking in my direction, his love for me becomes obvious. It's my turn at the window, as I walk up to the window I try to make eyecontact but as he stares intently down at his package, I realize I should let him be. I finish up my business at the window - meanwhile he's advanced to the other window - I turn to get one more look at his fuzzy face, denim-covered lower half, purposefully expressionless expression that screams "I Want You" - and grab my bike to leave. It hits me then. The other guy must've been his boyfreind; perhaps they had just returned from a New Paltz wedding, and now, seeing me, he has regrets. Sees me, sees the other possibilities out there, and his insides are in turmoil. Wondering what it would be like with me, in bed, in our upstate house, sleeping late on Sundays, having coffee while reading the New York Times, making love again....

I love my post office.

REUNION

directed by: Taylor Hudson - aka ChiChi LaRue (1992)

Probably my two favorite early 90's porn actors, Cliff Parker and Aiden Shaw were in perhaps 6 or 7 videos together (Command Performance , Grand Prize, Dirty Dreaming, Summer Buddies, etc) - but I believe this is the only scene they did together. It's one of the better examples of the dreaded "cum on my cheek" scenarios. While I understand the rationale for doing it on the cheek - it's safe, you still get the cum shot and the bottom's face - it's just that it so rarely looks good. Usually the actor is suddenly tossing his face into the action sideways, grimacing with his eyes sealed shut, waiting for the gooey onslaught. It just looks articifial and unappealing. But here, while the side-of-the-face bit still looks artificial, Cliffy genuinely looks quite interested in getting Aiden's load on his face, and those extra few licks just before Aiden shoots, plus Aiden pulling Cliffy up for the kiss afterwards, make it a much better than average scene.

too funny

BJ DOES IT AGAIN

BJ GETS WET

hehe - someone's auctioning my old videos on eBay!

Yup, I do occasionally sell stuff that isn't porno. But I do think all the above titles, with the exception of John Rechy's The Vampires, is gay-themed (his might be bi-ish, I think). Help me clear off these overloaded bookshelves, please?

Bullets I read several months ago, and thoroughly enjoyed (I have a copy to keep), Consenting Adults - I just watched the made-for-TV movie with Marlo Thomas and Martin Sheen late the other night - you know the author is the same one who wrote Gentleman's Agreement. I remember watching the film years ago and having that "why is it always from their perspective" feeling - but the other night was actually the first time I started to think about how my queerness might've affected my folks. Oddly, I don't really know; I told my Dad by letter - he responded quickly by phone in an amazingly positve way, and I assume he broke the news, officially, to Mom. But I was 22 then, already moved here to NYC, but they must've thought about it for years before then, there were plenty of signs.

........well, after 10 weeks of no one but me doing it - I finally had a man's hands on my balls today.

Unfortunately, it was a professional. (No, I wasn't paying him to touch my balls, specifically) A visit to the doctor's office, and he pulled on his rubber gloves and tried to explain how to check my balls for any unusual signs. Of course, standing there completely naked with a guy holding my nuts, looking down at myself all I can think about is how tiny my dick looked - it was so friggin' shrivled up - the ol' 'frightened turtle' look. Pre-occupied with that, I was completely not paying attention to his instructions. I didn't even have it in me to joke that checking my balls once a month wouldn't be a problem, as I already do it every twelve minutes.

I am working extra shifts this weekend, and am taking tonight off in exchange for that. My ideal plans are.... hot man in my bed with me watching West Wing and Law and Order; then 30 minutes of hot sweaty sex from 11-11:30; then, still cum-encrusted, we have ice cream and snuggle while watching a rerun of the Simpsons from 11:30 -12; more sex after midnight, falling asleep sometime after 1 a.m.; he leaves sometime after dawn, but not before a few minutes of teasing my morning hard-on.

Reality: staying online with my "lets have sex" AOL screename all night with no takers all the while eating everthing in the refrigerator and cupboards while watching hours and hours of reruns on TV.

twins!

Found myself awake early this morning. Out the window, the sky is getting lighter, and I hear this sound. For the third year in a row, a pair of mourning doves have been nesting beside my air conditioner, outside my bedroom window. They've been poking around out there for 2 months, but the past week or two it seemed like one of them was always there in the nest, and I knew from past experience they're ready to lay an egg. Unlike past years, I've disciplined myself not to keep peering thru the manilla envelope I have set up blocking the view thru the window beside the air conditioner. But after hearing all this chirping yesterday, I had to look, and caught a brief glimpse of one of the parents feeding a chick.

So this morning, I quickly realized what had awoken me, stood up on my bed to peer thru the tiny opening and could see bits of a wing moving, and a parent bird pointing it's beak downwards towards a pile of feathers. Feeding time. I got back down, pulled up the covers, as the sun began to appear from behind some clouds. Smiling, I fell back asleep.

As you can see from this pic, I couldn't help myself later, and just had to pull the barrier away long enough to take a pic or two. I was shocked and delighted to see an actual pair of chicks, and the 3 faces facing me nervously, as I quickly snapped a couple and moved the barrier back in place. Blurry, I know, but certainly cute.

Would it be wrong to get involved with this group if my primary motivation is husband-hunting?

Gee, if only the battle for same-sex marriage depended on who made better signs....... (OK, I'm not the best speller either, but, um, why does str8 bride have teeny tiny arms, and str8 groom have no arms at all?)

I hope the posting of these pics from mags I'm selling isn't too boring for folks. Sure, I'd love y'all to go to the auctions and BID! BID! BID!; but I also think some of these pics are amazing - the men so handsome, or the photographer capturing something that just sticks with you. So for the above pics, if you click, you'll get the larger image version, rather than a link to the auction. Both are from the same magazine - CIAO, October 1974. While both are different sorts of men and poses, both say the same thing to me: balls.

I try not to think how long it's been since my face has been buried in a nice set of balls (9 weeks, 2 days), but I have to say that it is an act I enjoy even more than cocksucking. Perhaps its the aroma - balls are more likely to have a nice bit of sweat that teases the nose while enticing the tongue. Maybe it's the teasing of the cock - dangling just above, waiting for attention but still enjoying the activities just below. And size isn't such a big deal here - while "low-hangers" are often spoken of, what really matters is the effect of your mouth, your tongue, your facial hair pushing into the set of nuts that drives your partner crazy. Small or large, low and loose or close and tight - it's the sensation you give your partner that makes ball-licking so f*ckin' enjoyable - making hiim squirm, moan, yelp, beg you to stop, plead with you to continue.....

BRUNO

Gosh, when I see ads like this, and others in the back of some of the vintage porno books I collect and sell, it makes me wonder just how much porn (I realize this is just an ad for leather belts.....) went through that Post Office on Canal Street in the 70's and 80's. My ideal job: being a postal worker, working the P O Box window at the Canal Street Station in the 70's, cruising the pornographers as they came to pick up their orders, and sending out their packages to sweaty, nervous men all over America. Mmmmmmmmm..........

CLOSED SET

"While you were gone I did some shooting."

directed by: Joe Gage (1980)
Basically, Gage wanted to experiment a bit, get a gathering of select men together for a one-night stand-up sex session, like a backroom, and see if he could get enough material to make it into a commercial film. Using an unprecidented four cameras (the standard was, and is, two - but sometimes only one!), and filmed in 4 hours, (the first hour wasn't even sex, just intros, "sniffing each other out" - clothes on!). Anyone who enjoys copious amounts of cum will f*ckin' love this film!

voted

it wasn't so horrible - I suppose nothing can top crying in the voting booth while pulling the handle for Walter Mondale in 1984. Dean and most of the other former contenders were still on the ballot, as was MR SCAREY HIMSELF - Lyndon LaRouche.

Meanwhile, in other news, I've recently discovered my AOL SPAM folder. While most of its contents are indeed SPAM, unfortunately a few inquiries, and even - egads! - fanmail, were in there. One young man from the West Coast turns out to be rather handsome (I know, I know, 3000 miles is a kinda far to even consider someone that way, but hell, look what happened to local Burrito Man - nothing!) OOOPS! time to get to work!

Dated Dean, Married Kerry?

Remember that catchy slogan from the early days of the Democratic Presidential primaries? I can admit now that way back when, I was actually flirting with the idea of voting for Dean. Despite differences on important issues like capital punishment, after listening to him speak many times, and seeing him interact with voters on those C-Span shows, I thought I might just get over my he-must-be-perfect idealism. Fine, we'll go for another Clinton, someone who's smart, has demonstrated fiscal responsiblity, seems open to discussing the problems with such things as the death penalty, etc., etc. But he's gone, and now we're all supposed to jump on this he-can-beat-Bush bandwagon. Marry Kerry? Need I remind people that not only is that illegal in most parts of this country, but the groom himself is against same-sex marriage. I just don't see why, so early in the process, we're so eager to give this man a free pass. He is unable to come up with anything on same-sex marriage except "I feel it's just between a man and a woman" and "this is just what the Republicans want - wasting our time discussing issues that divide us." I am just so tired of hearing these guys address the nation, and speak as if I, and other gay people, aren't part of the crowd that they are trying to woo, and lead. Screw you!

So tomorrow is the next round of primaries, finally one I can vote in, and we've got the usual dreadful choices. The two top contenders arent even being contemplated by me - so my choice really is between Mr Kucinich and a write-in. Last time I did a write-in for a democratic party primary, the 149-year-old lady at the voting place was quite irritated, and demanded to know if my candidate is a member of the Democratic Party. When I simply said, "Yes, I am" she foisted the big precious piece of paper in front of me, wouldn't let me borrow her pen to fill it out, and walked away. I'm such an evil voter, not playing by the rules. I gotta tell you, Kucinich only looks good on paper. He seems to believe in all the same big issues as me, and there is no hesitancy in his arguments. But he is a scarey man in person (or at least on TV.) The other night, when he stopped mid-answer during a debate to try to get Larry King's attention, and King was like "Dennis, I don't have to make eye contact with you to hear your answer" - Kucinich didn't even get it - that he wasn't addressing King, but us, the voters, watching on TV.

So, I suppose tomorrow I should arm myself with my own pen.

"Take a look, at my face for the last time.
I never knew you, you never knew me.
Say hello, wave goodbye."

"the issue is Rick's alleged infidelity, with one or another member of his administration of undetermined gender"

I know, I know, it's only a rumor - and god knows I don't want this type - hateful Republican - on "our team" - but still, it is kinda fun thinking about this scum-governor squirming and wondering when the shit will hit the fan.

do the worm on accropolis
slamdance cosmopolis
enlighten the populace

It would take some sort of weird stretch to find some way to relate this song, these lyrics, to anything on my mind..... but what can I say? It's a cool song, and how can anyone not enjoy Allen Ginsberg's raspy voice?

In a seemingly unrelated note, I just accepted a deposit on my room share - so the painful search for a roommate is over - thank god. Sitting in my kitchen yesterday, it was fairly clear that he'd make a good roommate - nice guy, liked the place, personable, familiar with and loved the neighborhood. When discussing TV, internet, food-sharing, and the little things, he said about the cable TV being in my room - "ah, no big deal, I don't watch much TV - except...... I really must watch the Simpsons." Obviously, it was a sign.

While we don't always agree on stuff (the differences being minor, in the scheme of things, though) I think bentkid has the right idea today - breathe, relax, think of cute things (doesn't have to be puppies) - which is important to remind us WHY fighting bigotry and inequality is important - we all deserve the best in life - and then come back in a day or two and strategize how to get that fucker out of the White House.

Ok, now before we get all hysterical about the idea of a Constitutional Amendment banning same-sex marriage, let's look at how difficult it is to get an amendment passed. You need like 2/3 of the states to ratify (oh wait, more than that have DOMA's now....) You need the house to pass it first, right? (oh wait, that's easy to do, majrity Rebulicans, and a bunch of fucked up Democrats). Still, there's the Senate, who take pride in seriously deliberating issues like this - all we need is 34 "no" votes, right? Ok - here we go. We got Teddy Kennedy, and, um....

ok, time to get hysterical.

I think George Payne looks fairly decent here, despite not having his trademark beard.

... and yes, I am selling the 25-year-old magazine - here.

You know what I hate? Besides Barbara Boxer, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Log Cabin Republicans, Nader-haters, stupid people who can't read apartment-share ads, my new glasses that my eyes haven't adjusted to yet, my ever-shrinking bank account, this insistent depression, my lack of any sexual contact for over 7 weeks...... blah blah blah.... What I really hate is the all-too-brief reprieve from all that and so much more that happened in the post office this morning.

I walk in, see the line isn't too long, and stand behind a man with huge - packages. Checking him out from behind, I am enjoying the view of loose-fitting jeans, the back of his head and scruffy black worn cap; I look up at the security mirror near the ceiling and catch a glimpse of his profile - strong face, light facial hair, cap pulled down enough to shadow his eyes from this angle. My eyes return to the man who's just pushed his huge packages up a few inches, the slight movement in the jeans making me smile, the strong back covered in some cottony-worn greenish jacket. But the shoes. Not horrible, but some sort of odd sandal - clearly those can be ignored, as I'm not much of a foot guy anyway. No, it wasn't the shoes that ruined that all-too-brief moment. He turns slightly, just enough to show his entire face, but too busy to notice me while he turns again downward to concentrate on some customs or insurance mail form. Damnit! I know him. Not only do I know him, but he's married, and I know his husband! GRRRRRRR. Why couldn't I have had just one more full 60 seconds of wonder, imagining, forgetting about everything else?

Ahhhhhhh - the problem with buying this stuff - so much winds up in the "MAYBE I'LL KEEP THIS ONE" pile, like 'Vampire's Kiss' (1970)

HANDsome

"Hello - Joe?"

directed by: Joe Gage (1981)

Starring: Roy Garrett, J.D. Slater, Ron Clayton, Bill Geary, Robert West, Rick Youngblood, Joe Gage, and others not credited.

I'm sure when I say I love this film, you won't be surprised. But combining the seductive Man Parrish soundtrack and "vocal montages" from Rick L. Pollack (you can even hear some of Roy Garrett's erotic poetry in one or two scenes) with Gage's direction - it's one of those films that you can just hang out at home, smoke a joint, have a couple cans of beer, and whack away for an hour. Hell, you can even just play the audio and get off - another unique part of this film - utilizing the late 70's/early 80's phenomenon of "hot talk tapes" that you could buy in the back of magazines to augment this jerk-off party celebration. (An yes, I'm 99% sure that's Gage himself smoking a cigarette at the onset of this scene.)

MMMMmmm - like my new roommate? I wish! And I know by typing this I jinx it, but the one who was here this afternoon was really cute - good thing he mentioned his boyfriend, and I liked him enough to want him for a roommate, so I didn't spoil it by drooling, or lunging for his crotch. Let's keep our fingers crossed, and our minds out of the gutter, for this one.

In other news, my arms, shoulders, back and neck are sooooooo sore, thanks to these two men - Rob and Barry - no, not what you think - they're both taken, and I'm celibate in 2004, remember? No, each of these guys emailed me in the last couple days telling me to check out this shop that had a special on vintage gay pornbooks and mags. I really didn't think I'd go, knowing I had no money (or room) to add to my coolection, and figuring re-selling is tough when buying retail in New York - but the clincher was when Rob mentioned that his bf got him the Colt Gallery magazine featuring one of my alltime faves - Bruno. Even knowing any "good stuff" like that would've been snatched up, I figured it was worth a look. Once I got there, at first glance it was a bit disappointing, until I started really digging in and found a few titles I've wanted to own, and a couple that I figured I could at least make my money back on eBay. I approached the desk, asked for prices, and then asked if I'd get a "deal" if I bought, say, more than 10. Next thing I know, I've got 14 books, and the guy's like "why don't you take the whole bunch of 'em?" - he tried doing some quick math, then started counting books, I hemmed and hawed, figuring what do I have in the bank, how do I get home??

Ever try carrying two boxes of paperbacks and magazines 2-1/2 blocks, then down a flight of stairs into the subway, then back up two subway flights back once back in your neighborhood, hail a cab, then walk up 4 flights to your overcrowded apartment? All I can say is I could really use a massage - and not one with 'release' at the end types - but a good, strong, pounding Russian (or Cuban - like Bruno) type to beat the pain out of me.

meeting joe gage

I've got like 7 million things I need to get done today, so this might be brief. A week or two ago, Joe Gage emailed me that he'd be in town, and we should do coffee. As I previously mentioned, we have only recently been corresponding, and that alone was a big thrill for me. So of course, I was terribly excited about meeting him. Tuesday he emailed again, to confirm and set up a time, and gave me his phone number. Immediately I'm practicing making the call. "Hello, Joe?" straight out of his 1981 film HANDsome is what popped into my head, and wouldn't leave. Of course, you'd have to be familiar with the film (you mean you aren't?) to know it's basically the lead-in line for each scene, apparently a friend calling and telling im about some hot jack-off scene, or an idea for his next film. Blah blah blah, I call, we set up a time, and he suggests I just come up to his apartment. Woo-Hoo!

All that night I kept thinking do I approach this as like an interviewer, do I need to bring a notebook and pen? But it just felt forced - his invitation was pretty much "you seem to 'get' my work, so let's meet and hang out" so I pedalled up there yesterday with that in mind - let's just hang out. So the elevator door opens, there he is with a dog who wants to greet me first. I am quickly instructed to feed the dog a carrot, which I do, and apparently that's supposed to make the dog like me. It works. I'm escorted into the kitchen and offered coffee.

I'd been up for hours, couldn't sleep past 8 am (which is incredibly weird for me, I usually get my best sleep between 7-10 am, but I digress) and I've had several cups of coffee already, so I accept one of the alternate offers (no, not a role in his next sexpic), water. He pours himself a refill of coffee, and, smiling, says "boy, this is exciting, getting to finally meet." YES - this is an OHMIGOD OHMIGOD moment - him being excited about this - but I try to hide it and smile back as he pulls up a chair. There's no way I can lay out for you what specifically we talked about - but pretty much what you'd expect - me asking about the old films, his new stuff, him revealing little tidbits - sometimes prefacing with "you can't tell anyone this" - when talking about who wrote the score for the "Trilogy", or the soap opera star who did the voice-overs for the Trilogy trailers - stuff like that. Even some tidbits about the next release (which, alas, some of my friends in the Southern states won't be able to mail order, unless some of the material is edited and put on some special bonus disc). Even pointing when I ask about a specific scene from one of the films - "Oh, we shot the whole thing over there; yes, Casey Donovan was great." And he asked me stuff about the web - told me some ideas he has for his site - laughed about typing his name into Google and my site comes up first. We talked about my recently discovering I have videotapes with the watersports scenes in tact - he's not even sure if he has them, and sternly told me to hang on to them (like I needed telling!) There was this one wonderful moment, I can't even remember what the specific story was, but he let out a big laugh, his heading falling back, and I'm sitting in his kitchen thinking, "this isn't an amazing OHMIGOD I'm with someone famous moment - this is the much better wow I like this guy and we're enjoying each other's company can't wait to do it again moment."

I knew he had a plane to catch, and asked about the time again. He had earlier mentioned how I had to see Tulsa County Line and in an email said he'd have one for me - so he went into the next room to fetch it while I went to his bathroom to take a piss (No, I didnt check for cameras, like that would've stopped me!) When I came out, there it was, Jason Branch's little smirk looking up at me from Joe Gage's kitchen table, and he said - "Do you want an autograph?" Of course, right!? Then he said "Do you want me to make it out to you, or would you want to try to sell it?" We both laughed, as he was well aware I make a few extra bucks on eBay , and of course assured him it would be staying with me. He even mentioned that after finishing up production on Tulsa, Jason Branch pulled out some old Gage videos and asked for autographs - but for Blake Harper. Gage even questioned this, having heard that they had broken up. But Branch assured him that he and Blake were still very close, and that Harper was a huge fan (and was subsequently in Gage's Closed Set: The New Crew). How sweet, eh? (Or, in Jason Branchese - "sweeeeeeet.") Anyway, by this time I had been there well over an hour, and started packing up. We promised we'd see each other again soon, as he's in town frequently. As we're standing in the hallway, waiting for the elevator, he catches me looking in the direction of one of the other rooms, and he proudly tells me which of his old films was filmed in that little room.

Can't wait to go back!

I'm exhausted. I know I said I'd talk about my coffee date, but I was there for over an hour, then did some freelance work for a friend, then subwayed over to Brooklyn after two guys (sorry fellas, I'll add the linkage later - and thanks!) told me to check out a store that had some vintage periodicals. Let's just say I spent way more there than I earned working for my friend. And I'm still digesting a really nice chat with my favorite porn director (c'mon - do that math!). Plus I have to answer some emails and phone calls about the room for rent (why don't any possessionless gayboys want to live in a tiny room in a tiny Lower East Side apartment with a porn purveyor?) - and try to get this thing wrapped up this weekend. It's nearly 5pm, and I haven't even eaten yet!

ohmigod ohmigod OHMYGOD!
(said while fretting around the apartment like Homer Simpson, waving hands frantically in the air). Ok Ok okok. calm down. OKok. ok. It's just coffee. It's not a date date; it's meeting someone I've admired for awhile, and I just got off the phone and we are having coffee tomorrow afternoon. I have no idea what I'll say, 'cept "you're so fuckin' cool."

ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod.

But seriously, I need to relax, and just enjoy myself, and not get all freaked out - he sounded really cool on the phone, brief conversation setting up time and place, and boom! I'll have details sometime either tomorrow afternoon, or early thursday - normally, I wouldn't even want to say this much, for fear of jinxing it, but this is too cool to hold in.

This is really freaky. I finally got my head eyes examined earlier today, and this thing they do to dilate your eyes and check deep for problems has really f@cked me up. They warned about blurry vision for a few hours, and good thing I knew not to ride my bike. Still, it's very disorienting to get new glasses and see really clearly 10+ feet away, but not within arms length.

I woke up very depressed this morning, had to get out of the house early (by 9a.m.), and as I was getting ready, thought - "what if this depression doesn't lift by Spring?" - I mean, its ok to be bummed out for a few months in the winter when its too cold to be social and get out much; but it would be a real shame to not be able to shake this by the time the trees are budding, the days are getting longer, and the boys are wearing less clothing. grrrrr.