I had heard some rumblings about recession this and deflation that, but it seemed like something distant from my life. The bars seemed just as crowded as ever and at work the dining room was packed every night. I just didn’t see it and seeing is believing. Then I was faced with the harsh reality that I would have to move back to Palm Springs. I tried to make the best of a bad situation and the full horror didn’t seep in until I was knee-deep in harsh and sticky reality: Palm Springs in the off season in the middle of an anemic economy. Maybe I should back up a little bit.

A few months ago I lost my renter and that left me paying for two residences – something far beyond my financial reach so far. Unable to find someone to rent my condo I realized I had to suck it up and return to the desert. It’s July here and it’s crazy hot, not the best place to be if you hate AC. Petey and I lay in front of the box fans patiently panting, waiting for the sun to go down so the poor dog can get out and get some running in; right now, after 10 mins in the sun he begins to over heat and runs for the nearest shady spot.

Some of you might be asking yourselves “Did you quit Channel1?” No, but porn does not pay everything. Petey still needs to go to dog camp and daddy needs his East Coast fixes. So much like the rest of you I need to work to keep this family in the life to which we are accustomed. Dance gigs and appearances are slim these days. I saw this coming though. About 6 months ago there was a huge influx of gigs, I theorized that this was the clubs’ last attempt at bringing in some bodies and once they saw that people just weren’t coming in no matter what they did or who they had, they stopped booking.

Palm Springs and I have a past, but I didn’t think we’d have a future. This is a place where I am, as BW so eloquently put, a prisoner of my property, I can’t find work here and to be honest, there is a surplus of really strange people here. I think it’s the heat, and yet I walk outside in the morning or will be driving somewhere and the light will catch one of the 4 mountain ranges and I will be speechless at the raw, unadulterated splendor of it all. “Fuck, that is so god damned pretty!” and I forget that I’m almost running on empty.

Today I’m heading up to Utah for a Valentine’s event and I just couldn’t leave without saying something, ANYthing on the blog since I’ve been so negligent lately. Sometimes you just fall out of the groove, you know? I was thinking about religion last night and how religious people kind of get a bad rap from all of the fanatics, but then I realized an entry about that would be a major endeavor so another Friday the 13th blog op was missed. And of course I have fuck all to say about love, which means a Valentine entry is out of the question. Don’t even get me started on this “holiday” or I’ll never make my plane. Let me just say in shorthand, “Why do we NEED a day to do things for those we love?”

Then it hit me! I have a fun little video we made just for kicks and I can use it to overshadow the fact that I don’t want to write a fucking thing! They will love it and I can ease my guilt for being such a rotten host! You see how that works?

Earlier this month I had the opportunity to visit Philadelphia for their 14th Gay and Lesbian Film Festival courtesy of our friends at TLA.

The C1R Triple Threat

In addition to some quality time with the Boss Lady and Blake Riley I got to hang with some Channel 1 VIPs that we do not get to see very often. There were many highlights during the weekend in the city of Brotherly Love, but there were three in particular that I would love to share with you.

Stoia

First, a while back I was sent an e mail from a young girl titled “Ode to Johnny.” Her name is Stoia, she works for Digital Playground and she’s gorgeous. It was most complimentary and flattering. Well lo and behold she is from Philly and TLA took this opportunity not to only have us meet but create a mini movie to document the entire ordeal from her writing the ode to our long awaited meeting. The movie was shot in black and white with a fifties motif. In the final scene we sharing a milkshake in front of a vintage soda shop; it was the best milkshake EVER!

Blake and me off the grid.

C1R Mastermind
Rob Novinger

Saturday evening we had the chance to schmooze and booze at a club called Pure. This was the chance for us all to hang out and be ourselves with no cameras, pens or other obligatory what have you. We were Free to Be. Early in the evening Chi Chi was scheduled to speak at an event that coincided with the Film Festival, but was geared more to, well, porn. As the limo pulled up to the theatre the first voice I heard was that of our lovely Hazzard Ahead contributor and my biggest fan on the East coast, RitaPHL! She was bright-eyed and looking very sharp with her new do! She later informed me that it had been two years to the day since we met in Bean Town when she and her husband Jim were on holiday being served by yours truly at Aquitaine. It was wonderful to see her.

Our editor at Channel 1 created a video montage of Chi Chi, Blake and me that was played before she went on and it was sooooo amazing. I asked them for a copy and I’m hoping to have it soon to feature here – I promise! After Chi Chi’s talk we opened the floor up to Q&A. My number one fan raised her hand and asked if I could sign her B-Rude original T shirt. It features my mug and pecs splattered on the front with “Blow my Speakers” as the caption. I gladly signed the shirt and was amazed that she was able to snag one. After Rita walked away Chi Chi turned green with envy that Rita was able to get her hands on one. At the end we were passing out our latest picture book “Smut” and I made sure my girl got one! Enjoy it Rita! And thank you so much for all the effort you went through to get there!

Rita’s new signed B-Rude shirt.

Before our night out I managed to bug everyone with my digital video camera. Since there is some mild nudity and some appearances by folks that would rather not be featured I am including just a small piece here. The full version will be on Hazzard Central in a few days time. Enjoy!

I love traveling to the East Coast (especially on someone else’s dime) thanks Eric and thanks Philly!.

This story has been on the back burner for ages. Sometimes it’s better to talk about something after the fact. I’ve whittled this down considerably and yet it is still reeeeally long so I’ve decided to pepper it with photos!

That’s right. This is all about Petey.

When I first got him it was clear that he suffered from a severe case of separation anxiety. He would tear up the rug in front of the door and began to rip the metal frame from around the front door in an effort to get out whenever I was away from home. I bought a wire cage from Petsmart only to have him chew, yes chew through it squeezing himself through an opening that I am shocked did not cause a bloody mess and a trip to the ER. I talked to the instructor for Petey’s first segment of obedience class about my dilemma and she told me of a woman who encountering the same problem had designed, with the help of a welder, a wrought iron cage that was meant for the transport of large exotic animals, more specifically, a tiger! Obviously the cage was going to be made smaller and the idea was comical and I was hopeful. My hopes were short lived however and smashed to a million pieces when I came home to find Petey soaked in urine and slobber. The final event that led Petey back to the truck was the “Post-Its” on my door from neighbors asking me to quiet my dog. I was literally at my last rope now so in the meantime while I figured out what the next step was in calming this panic I had to take Petey with me everywhere in my truck.

Amazingly he had absolutely no trouble hanging out in the truck; he knew I was coming back and he would lay down on his pillows quiet and relaxed patiently waiting for daddy to return. It was very problematic during August and September as the temperature would reach into the 100s. Not only was it a issue for my little boy’s health, but it is illegal to leave a dog in the car in CA. I would crank up the AC and only be gone for minutes at a time. I would enlist the help of friends to watch him when I had to run errands that would take more than a couple of minutes; this was now a full time job.

I enjoyed his company though and when I would see his little ears blowing in the wind from my rear view mirror I would just smile and be happy that he was in my life. I would leave the little window of the cab half open when I would go shopping or to the gym and it was set to a spot that even I had a hard time getting past. I had done this so many times and was without worry or fear that he would get out and besides, he was not anxious at all about hanging out in the truck.

One night I had attended a class on the Science of Happiness and of course brought Petey along. When I pulled in on the far side of the lot I noticed a man and a woman of the tweeked out variety in close proximity. I made a comment to Petey that may have been a bit judgmental, but I thought since it was just the two of us that no harm would be done. I pulled in to my spot and went inside at 7:10 PM. I know this because I glanced at the clock when I turned the truck off. At 9 PM the class ended and I went outside to the truck ready to be greeted by my beloved companion. I approached and noticed that the window appeared to be opened all the way. Panic set in and I ran to the truck. I unlocked the door the truck illuminated to show an empty cab. I wanted to throw up. I immediately imagined him by the side of the road then switched to a vision of him lost in the foothills of the mountains that looked over us from the West. Even as I write this and relive it, I feel that panic rising from my gut and the chill running down my arms to my fingertips; it was to date the worst experience I can recall. I started to run calling his name as loud as I could. I had no idea where I was running to, but standing still would only serve to exacerbate the panic and fear that seemed to engulf my body. I had only gone about 50 ft around the building when I made a quick left to see my beloved four legged friend hanging out calm as cash with the two crackheads that I silently insulted 2 hours prior.

They had Petey leashed with some rustic rubber tubing that was crudely tied to his collar like some junkyard dog. The female was grossly thin and clutching a “Big Gulp.” Her male companion was silent and wearing sunglasses. She began to explain that she found my dog and that he looked really lost and scared so she grabbed him and gave him chicken. The three of them were hanging out by the pay phone around the building, a football’s throw from my truck. I looked at her gaunt, skeletal face as she explained again that they had found the dog and that he was scared, they gave him chicken and called the number listed on his tags. I thanked them over and over and she said her victory speech over and over until I coughed up a couple of twenties.

The second I was alone with Petey I began to cry, hard, really hard. And I was ashamed of myself for my remark earlier about the street kids. That all changed very soon. Once I discovered the 10 voicemails left during my two hour absence it was clear that Petey had been taken and more or less held for ransom. He did not push that window open, they opened it. What fucking balls! You have to be really cracked out and desperate to stick your hand in a truck with the face of a pit bull staring back at you. They coaxed him out with the cheap chicken they got from the KFC behind the building and took him right to the phone where they began to make their rescue calls. It was definitely a moment to remember and now when Petey goes with me the window is locked.

With that scary episode behind me and a very different life in front of me there has been much improvement with Petey. Thanks to a little intense training and some tough love he can now stay at home by himself (for short spells anyway). There are still days that push me to my limits, but I think he’s definitely worth a little wear and tear on my nerves. Who knows what would have become of him if I hadn’t come along? I know I certainly wouldn’t be where I am today without the collaborative support of many, many individuals and they didn’t give up on me when I chewed on their $260 custom sandals! Well, you get the idea.