Tag Archives: jeffrey luscombe
Jeffrey takes his vlog to the shark-infested waters of Bora Bora.
Used my new underwater camera. Probably not the best audio so just enjoy the view 🙂
That one shark did come too close for comfort.
Here is your humble blogger snorkeling with sharks and stingrays in Bora Bora. I seem to drift a tad too close to the sharks at the end…
Look for more videos and photos of our Tahitian vacation posted soon.
And even more sharks!
Here is a repost of last year’s St. Patrick’s Day Post (I’m still 3/8 Irish). Enjoy!
Your humble blogger is 3/8 Irish.
Finding out that I was Irish (even 37.5% Irish) actually came as quite a surprise to me. It wasn’t until I was well in my 30s that we learned of my Irish background. It was after my family (being the nosy bunch they are) had sent away for the military records of my maternal grandfather who (as it turns out) was from Dublin, Ireland.
Now it wasn’t that my grandfather was secretive of his county of origin, instead he was a chronic alcoholic who ran off when my mother was only five years old. So we knew very little about him. That was until his military records shone some light on the bum. In fact, what we learned from the military records of both my maternal and paternal grandparents are worth a blog or two themselves.
But I digress.
Learning that I was Irish was actually rather exciting to me. Being a writer, I felt a greater kinship with all those great Irish writers: James Joyce, Oscar Wilde and Jonathan Swift (and the poets) William Butler Yeats and Seamus Heaney. Suddenly I understood the Circe episode in Joyce’s Ulysses (well, maybe 3/8 of it).
But looking back, I really should have known I was Irish all along. After all, green is my favourite colour. And I always liked potatoes, George Clooney and Irish whiskey… and I loved those old Shamrock Shakes they used to have at McDonalds.
However, it turned out that my paternal Irish grandfather was also a member of The Church of England (protestant), or so his enlistment form for the WWII stated. So the question arises: Does an atheist like myself who was descended from a protestant Irishman celebrate the Catholic St. Patrick’s Day?
Sure he does!
In fact, I celebrated St. Patrick’s Day before I even knew I was Irish. This may surprise you but before your humble blogger gave up the juice about a decade ago, he drank more green beer than he’d really like mention.
Let’s just say it was more than a couple of pitchers in my day.
Though Guinness always tasted to me like a beer that someone had stuck a cigarette butt in. Not my thing. But as I said, I’m only 3/8 Irish. Perhaps it takes a bit more to appreciate the stuff.
I’m digressing again.
And then The Gay Groom married the Husband who (incidentally) is named Sean Patrick.
And when you are married to someone named Sean Patrick, celebrating St. Patrick’s day is kind of a given. It is now an annual event to watch to the parade wind down Yonge Street in Toronto the Sunday before St. Patrick’s Day to see the Husband’s ‘clan’ go march by.
I don’t have a clan.
And did you know that (like Santa Claus in a Christmas parade) it is Saint Patrick himself that ends the St. Patrick’s Day parade? I thought the Husband was joking when he told me that. They find some poor old guy to dress up in green like an Irish pope to close the parade. But Saint Patrick isn’t what you’d call jolly like Old Saint Nick.
In fact, he’s sort of creepy.
Maybe it’s his dress. Or those little white gloves my mother wore in 1962. Or perhaps it’s the enormous cross on his chest (never a good sign). It rather looked like Saint Patrick just wanted the parade over with so he could get off his throne and go for a green beer himself.
So whether you are Irish or not (0r some fraction like your humble blogger), have yourself a Happy St. Patrick’s Day!! And remember: if you start peeing green, you’ve had enough green beer.
Erin go Bragh!!!
Jeffrey, The Gay Groom
Your humble blogger had to put down his heart-shaped box of chocolates long enough to write his blog.
Valentine’s Day has gotten a bit of a bum rap lately. People seemed to have turned on arrowed Cupid faster than Justin Beiber (Bieber? I don’t care, actually).
Yes, I get that Valentine’s Day is a pseudo-holiday made up by the greeting card, flower and chocolate industries. Yes, I get we are being duped into spending money for trinkets we don’t need to express our feelings of affection. Yes, I know Saint Valentine was, according to legend, imprisoned, beaten with clubs, stoned and ultimately had his head chopped off.
Not very romantic, I must say.
But that’s far too unpleasant and I like to keep my blogs positive. So I choose not to dwell on the real and instead pretend to fall for all the sentimental nonsense, if just to get my aforementioned heart-shaped box of chocolates.
And your humble blogger has been blessed with the ability to view almost everything ironically (for example, the use of the word ‘blessed’ above was ironic).
This morning the Husband and I exchanged Valentine’s Day cards.
Luckily, we live in a city where it’s easy to pick up gay greeting cards. I’m sure if we lived in Wyoming or Idaho (where Walmart is considered a distinguished luxury retailer) it could be a tad more difficult to get a gay-themed greeting card. Though even then, I suppose with a little planning one could purchase a card on the internet for delivery from the many gay-positive greeting card companies out there. It should be noted that these are often more expensive than straight themed cards. I was told this was due to smaller print runs and not because these “gay-owned” or “gay-friendly” companies are just gouging us.… and since it’s Valentine’s Day, I’m willing to buy that (more irony).
Many straight men see Valentine’s Day as a day specifically for women (where the man must fork out for flowers, chocolate, cards etc. to women – or else) and I recently have heard of men creating a, dare I say, “tongue-in-cheek” movement to have March 14 (one month after Valentine’s Day) be a declared a day for women giving back to the men. The proposed name of this day? Steak and Blowjob Day.
Straight people can be amusing.
So tonight the husband and I will be headed to a restaurant in the gay village in Toronto for an overpriced romantic meal (I’m hoping they have Ontario lamb on the menu… or maybe the duck). Not that we limit ourselves only to restaurants in the gay village, most of the time we don’t (as most of the food is terrible in the village). But it was the Husband’s year to choose.
And after dinner, we’ll share a dessert at home.
Where, ironically, we don’t have to wait until March 14.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Jeffrey, The Gay Groom
My heart goes out to the people of Paris, my favourite city in the world.
Allow me to simply post this video of German pianist, Davide Martello, playing John Lennon’s “Imagine” outside the city’s Bataclan theatre today.
Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do;
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too.
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace.