Arthur Answers, Part 6: Me!

This is the sixth and final post in this year’s “Ask Arthur” series. Today’s questions from Roger Green are all related to a very, very important topic: Me! First up:

If you never came to New Zealand, where would you be living and what would you be doing?

Not surprisingly, I’ve pondered that very question many times, and, also not surprising, my answer changes often. At the time I met Nigel, I was ready for change—big change, even. In early 1994, I’d gone to Berlin, which I’ve written about before, but what I didn’t say is that for a time—very brief, as it turned out, due to my language problems—I thought (fantasised?) about living in Berlin for a while, or just living overseas for maybe six months. I couldn’t imagine doing it longer alone.

Moving to another country to be with someone is a completely different thing, and, in that sense, was much easier. However, it only happened because I was ready for change, and the trip to Berlin kind of primed the pump.

So, had none of those events happened, I may still have moved away from Chicago, anyway. Before I met Nigel, I thought about moving to San Francisco, a city with greater freedom for LGBT people, and also a more agreeable climate than Chicago’s. Whether that had happened or not, I might have moved somewhere.

On the other hand, I also have a vision of myself as being something like Mary (Donna Reed) in the alternate vision of reality that George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) sees when Clarence (Henry Travers) grants George’s wish in It’s A Wonderful Life: It’s possible that I could have gone in the completely opposite direction I did, and become more insulated and isolated.

I think the most likely scenario is somewhere between those two extremes: I may have stayed in Chicago, but moved on to a different (and better paying) job, and had a better quality of life there than I had at the time I left. I think that this is the most likely because even though I was primed for change, making too much change all by myself may have been too much.

Next, Roger asked:

In an ideal world, would you have wanted to have children of your own? I know you're an uncle.

I honestly don’t know. I entered adulthood thinking that I’d never have any legal recognition of my relationship, that in the eyes of the law it would always be temporary and unsubstantial. It also wasn’t easy for gay people to adopt in those days. However, even in the 1980s, gay men and lesbians were making arrangements with each other to have children, often with the gay man involved, though not necessarily as a parent. At one point a lesbian friend asked if I’d ever considered that, and I would have (she ended up marrying a man). As things turned out, it’s good that I didn’t because my entire life wouldn’t have happened as it did, and I wouldn't be in New Zealand.

By the time laws were changing, I was in New Zealand and we could have provided a good life for a child, but we felt it was too late. Once we had a Civil Union, it became impossible to adopt (New Zealand restricts that to single people and married couples—even now). I was 50 at the time, and when we were married, and legally able to adopt, I was 54. That’s all kind of moot, however, because there are very few children available for adoption, which is why foreign adoption is so popular, though fraught. We could have fostered a child, but didn’t think we could handle it emotionally if a child we’d raised and nurtured was sent back to the birth parent(s).

So, in an ideal world? Maybe. But because I grew up certain that I could never marry and have children, and because until relatively recently it was impossible or extremely difficult to do, I just never really gave a lot of thought to it—I never seriously considered the possibility.

Next:

What talent do you have which you've never shared in your blog or on your podcasts?

I couldn’t think of any, and even asked others what they thought some might be. I came up empty. Part of the problem is that I think I have certain abilities, but not necessarily talents, though I may be “better” at some things than other people are. To me, it’s the result of effort and commitment, not innate talent. At any rate, I can’t play any musical instruments, my singing is barely par, I have no aptitude for foreign languages, and I’m useless at sports. Certainly little has come easy to me, except for memorising history and internalising the rules of English grammar, though without necessarily knowing those rules.

Still, I have some minor abilities I haven’t discussed, like a knack for finding things others can’t (like lost keys or whatever), and I’m quite good as spatial things, like maximising what will fit in an over-filled closet (because I think and analyse visually much of the time, including for work). This also makes physical organising easy for me.

Beyond that, the abilities I’ve nurtured over the years have helped me grow, and I haven’t talked much about that, either (though a little bit). For example, my blogging has vastly improved my writing, politics has helped me with public speaking and leadership, podcasting has also helped with public speaking and acting more confident in public. Do I have any talents in those areas? I think that’s for others to decide. All of which means that if I have any talents I haven’t shared, it probably means that I can’t even see them.

Speaking of blogging:

How many draft posts do you have RIGHT NOW? How many will likely see the light of day?

As of this moment, 151, most of which will never see the light of day. Some are complete posts that I decided not to publish—mostly political rants, but also some that were just too similar to previous posts (like, for example, too many posts on US politics all in a row). However, some of the “rough drafts” contain the barest of bones—maybe a link or two, or even just a title. A few are even carry-overs from last year, “evergreen” topics I thought I could turn into finished posts (but didn't) for times I couldn’t come up with anything new for whatever reason. Those will end up in the drafts folder for 2017. I ended last year with 175 unpublished drafts, all of which were similar to this year’s.

Speaking of heady subjects:

Did you ever inhale?

Because the statute of limitations has well and truly expired, I can say yes, I did. I’ll add that I quite liked it, too, unlike certain former presidents, because it was always a good experience for me. I mentioned this at least once in passing, back in 2011. I stopped decades ago because I read that cannabis was immunosuppressive at a time when no one knew what caused AIDS. I figured that as a gay man it was better for me to not tempt fate. Nowadays, I’m so damn legal I don’t like walking past people smoking it outside. If it was legalised (as I think it should be), it might be interesting to revisit it. More likely, though, I wouldn’t. Still, never say never, right?

That’s it for this year’s series—I’ve checked several times, and I don’t THINK I missed any questions! The next "Ask Arthur" series will probably be in December 2017 (assuming a great many things…). Big thanks to Roger Green and my friend Sherry for all the questions!

Arthur Answers, Part 5: Pop culture

Today’s questions from Roger Green are all related to pop culture. First up:

Your favorite TV shows, movies, albums – however many you want.

I’ve thought about this over the week and a half since the most recent post in this series, and I had a LOT of trouble with it: At any given time, I may only have a couple “favourites”, and the list changes constantly. Also, my list of favourites is entirely dependent on the mood I’m in at the time, how tired I am, all sorts of things like that. And if that wasn’t complicating enough, if I don’t hear a song (for example) for a long time, I tend to forget about it until it pops up somewhere and I suddenly remember how much I once loved it.

So, these are really just sort of random lists in no particular order other than the order; ranking them would be too difficult, and, anyway, pointless since it will change sooner rather than later.

TV shows: I don’t have any true favourites at the moment, however, my favourite programmes tend to be ones about home improvement/renovation. This began way back in 1979 when This Old House debuted on PBS. Over the years, I’ve learned a LOT of useful things from those shows that helped me when we were renovating our previous house, and with routine projects ever since.

So, shows I currently enjoy are Homes Under the Hammer, a BBC programme about people who buys British houses at auction and do them up; various Grand Designs programmes, various programmes from Mike Holmes, among others. I’ve enjoyed all of the Star Trek TV series over the years, and still watch re-runs sometimes. In the past, I’ve enjoyed public affairs programmes, but there aren’t any decent New Zealand ones at the moment, and we don’t get American ones (assuming there are any these days—how would I know?), and I also enjoy documentaries. But the truth is, apart from the evening news, I really don’t watch much TV anymore.

Movies: We hardly ever go to the movies any more—maybe once or twice a year. Most recently it was Rogue One, which we both enjoyed. My favourite movies have been Star Wars (the original three and the most recent; I didn’t care for the episodes one through three), many of the Star Trek movies (though I have mixed feeling about the reboot films). I enjoy films that are a bit quirky, like the New Zealand film, What We Do In The Shadows. I like some blockbusters, others less so (I didn’t like Avatar, for example). Among old movies, I enjoyed High Noon, Citizen Kane, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, It’s A Wonderful Life, Wizard of Oz, various old movie musicals, cheesy horror and science fiction films of the 1950s, and more. In general, movies don’t need to be anything more than entertaining for me to enjoy them—they don’t have to be great art or whatever.

Albums: This is much easier for me because I listen to music all the time. In fact, it was TOO easy, so I limited it to full albums (no EPs or singles released as such), and also only albums I now have in digital format; I’ve lost and not replaced many vinyl LPs, and a few CDs that I ripped to digital files aren’t included because they’re not in my iTunes (most likely due to computer changes over the years). This is a mixed bag, but they’re all things I’d sit and listen two from start to finish.

First, some greatest hits albums I played constantly, and that led me to like the artists and buy more of their music: BowieChangesOne and BowieChangesTwo by David Bowie; Pop! The First 20 Hits by erasure; Eagles: Their Greatest Hits 1971-1975; Greatest Hits by Linda Ronstadt, Hot Rocks 1964-1971 by The Rolling Stones, and others.

Among other albums I liked: Boston Boston: My Life In The Bush of Ghosts by Brian Eno and David Byrne; Boys In The Trees by Carly Simon; Horzon Carpenters, Let It Flow by Dave Mason; Scary Monsters by David Bowie; Violator by Depeche Mode; Dusty in Memphis by Dusty Springfield; Hotel California and The Long Run by The Eagles; A New World Record and Discovery by Electric Light Orchestra; The Innocents, i say i say i say and Loveboat by erasure; At Last! By Eta James; Savage by Eurythmics; Einzelhaft by Falco; Fleetwood Mac and Rumours by Fleetwood Mac; Penthouse and Pavement and The Luxury Gap by Heaven 17; Earth by Jefferson Starship; Escape and Infinity by Journey; Autobahn and Computer World by Kraftwerk; Hasten Down The Wind, Prisoner In Disguise, and Simple Dreams by Linda Ronstadt, also What’s New; Thriller by Michael Jackson; With Sympathy by Ministry; This is the Moody Blues and Long Distance Voyager by The Moody Blues; Polysaturated by Nesian Mystik; Substance by New Order; History of Modern by OMD; Very by Pet Shop Boys; Automatic For The People and Out Of Time by R.E.M.; Cornerstone, Pieces of Eight, and Paradise Theatre by Styx; Even In The Quietest Moments and Breakfast in America by Supertramp; Songs From The Big Chair by Tears For Fears.

See? That was too easy.

Roger also asked in a later question:

OK, your reaction to the death of George Michael. The Boston Globe wrote George Michael’s work had a unique, profound effect on LGBTQ people: "This year has not just been a year in which our beloved celebrities have died, but it’s been a year in which LGBTQ people of a certain age have lost those who helped us come out and live authentic lives."

I answered this in a special post that I was already working on when Roger posted his question. But I’d I wanted to add some specific comments on role models and icons for young LGBT people: They are vital in TV shows, movies, and pop music so young LGBT people will experience them. That’s because we need to see the reality of our lives reflected, and because we need to see people like us succeeding and being visible. This is especially important in places where being openly gay, whether in rural areas or in the Southern USA, or in some country that puts people to death for being gay. To change the world, people first have to be happy within their own skin. Role models in pop culture are an important, even vital, part of that, and they matter.

There’s one more post in this series.

George Michael

2016 has been a crap year. Along with everything else, we saw the deaths of far too many people who meant so much to so many people. Some belittle that mourning, but I don’t—I’ve been one of the millions of mourners. As the year draws to a close, we’ve been subjected to ever more loss including George Michael earlier this week.

Like many people, I was shocked and saddened when I heard that George Michael had died. For me, he was so many different and varied things all at once. I’ve found myself remembering them all.

Michael became a role model for many gay men: “George Michael’s work had a unique, profound effect on LGBTQ people”, is how Patrick Garvin put it in a piece for the Boston Globe, and I have no doubt he’s right. But I’d been out for at least 15 years by the time Michael finally came out, and I’d already finished my career as a gay activist and was living happily here in New Zealand with Nigel. So, I didn’t need him as a role model as younger gay men did.

However, there was also a clear sexual ethos in his videos with Wham! and in his solo career, which was liberating (as well as, you know, sexy…). I particularly remember sitting in a gay video bar in Chicago called Take One (long gone) watching the video for their hit single, “Club Tropicana” () and fancying Michael quite a lot (and also thinking bandmate Andrew Ridgeley was cute, too). At the time, Michael was around 20 and I was 24. And yet, at that time, I didn’t know for sure Michael was gay, so it was more of an appreciation than anything else.



I also appreciated his politics and his charity work, some of which was largely unrecognised at the time. All of that was laudable.

It was, of course, his music I liked the most about him. I liked something from all of his albums, though, as with most performers, not necessarily everything on every album. On the other hand, I very much liked Songs From The Last Century, his least-successful album. Among other things, I liked his cover of “My Baby Just Cares For Me” [LISTEN], which includes male pronouns. His performance was probably influenced by Nina Simone’s version [WATCH], which had been used for a TV commercial in the UK and became a hit again. I still like it when I don’t have to “fill in the blanks” with song lyrics.

Among his many solo recordings, two stand out for me. The first is “Freedom! ‘90” (video up top). The sarcasm and cynicism of the lyrics appealed to me, as did the use of female and male models lip-synching rather than Michael himself appearing. Visually, the video was well done, and the destruction of elements from Michael’s earlier music videos was especially good, I thought. And, the chorus is great. Pop music at its best.

But one of my favourites of his videos was for “Outside” (video below). The video mocks his arrest for “lewd conduct”, allegedly the result of entrapment. So many people—especially Americans—are so annoyingly prudish about sex and this video takes that on. It struck me as kind of a giant and well-deserved “fuck you!” to all the self-righteous idiots who were quick to condemn Michael over it. The cops kissing at the end of the video is probably a middle finger to the American cops, and the final words serve the same function for the moralisers. I like all of that about this video, but the men’s toilets turning into a disco always makes me smile.

That gets at one of the things I admired the most about Michael: His openness and directness about his sexuality (after he came out, of course). He didn’t try to be, or present himself as, some sanitised, wholesome guy who happened to be into other sanitised, wholesome guys. Instead, Michael was what he was: Gay, sexual, and himself. The sexuality in his videos, then, was clearly authentic, not merely contrived for marketing purposes (though it undeniably helped with that, too).

Like so many iconic singers we’ve lost this year, Michael was unique and a huge presence. I may not have needed him as a gay icon, but I was pleased when he became one because I knew—and still know—how important they are. Mostly, though, I just enjoyed his work—audio and visual, because he was a master of both.

He will be missed by millions, including me.



Footnote: I was working on this post, in fits and starts due to being so busy (and tired) this week, and then Roger Green posted a comment asking about my reaction to the death of George Michael. This post mostly addresses that comment, but it’s not actually part of this year’s “Ask Arthur” series. Even so, I’m tagging it for that series.

Arthur Answers, Part 4: Murder in the VR degree

In today’s question, Roger Green asks about something quite theoretical—and fascinating, I think:

Do you think murder in VR should be banned?

Roger provided a link to a piece entitled, “Murder in virtual reality should be illegal” by Angela Buckingham and originally published on Aeon. The tl;dr version is the final paragraph:

“In an immersive virtual environment, what will it be like to kill? Surely a terrifying, electrifying, even thrilling experience. But by embodying killers, we risk making violence more tantalizing, training ourselves in cruelty and normalizing aggression. The possibility of building fantasy worlds excites me as a filmmaker—but, as a human being, I think we must be wary. We must study the psychological impacts, consider the moral and legal implications, even establish a code of conduct. Virtual reality promises to expand the range of forms we can inhabit and what we can do with those bodies. But what we physically feel shapes our minds. Until we understand the consequences of how violence in virtual reality might change us, virtual murder should be illegal. ”

I am always suspicious of moral panics, which is what the piece sounded like to me. Generally speaking, such things are based on spurious claims, and tend to suggest the broadest possible approach in the first instance, and that’s not usually the best approach. The main problem right now is that the facts don’t support her argument. Still, should be heed her call, anyway?

First things first: The virtual reality—VR—that Buckingham envisions doesn’t actually exist, and likely won’t for a while yet. It’s simply not possible to physically “feel” anything, so when she writes of a VR “murder” and says “you feel the density of his body against yours, the warmth of his blood,” she’s talking about something that is entirely imaginary. Someone using VR SEES things, but cannot touch or feel them. Which makes VR porn equally odd, though in a Rule 34 sense its existence is predictable.

Second, seeing things in VR requires bulky goggle-like things, and giving touch would require some sort of glove-like things. That’s not true to life at all, and that artificiality undermines Buckingham’s argument: If it’s no more “real” than a game someone might play now, how can it really be any worse?

I think this matters: If the experience is only visual and vicarious, I don’t believe that it can cause an increase in violence any more than watching violent movies or playing violent games do. The phrase “any more than” is important: I’m not suggesting that watching violence or taking part in it through a game or even VR can’t lead people to be more violent, merely that it’s no worse.

However, the science is still inconclusive on whether vicarious violence can lead someone to become more violent, with the preponderance of evidence suggesting that it doesn’t for otherwise mentally and emotionally healthy people.

But, what’s the harm, then? If the evidence is still unclear, why shouldn’t we ban VR murder until, as Buckingham says, “we understand the consequences of how violence in virtual reality might change us”? Because there’s no evidence to suggest that would do any good, either.

If something is made illegal, it doesn’t go away, it just becomes more difficult to obtain. But that’s just a pragmatic point: The bigger issue here is that banning and censoring things is a restriction on liberty, and that ought to be a last-resort, after there’s real evidence of clear and obvious harm that cannot be prevented in any other way.

By all means, restrict such things to 18+, and criminalise giving such materials to minors, as we do with other things deemed unsuitable for them. But banning them from all people when the evidence of harm is weak and the probability of censoring free expression is great? I can’t see any good that would outweigh the harm in loss of liberty.

There are a couple things that might persuade me to agree with Buckingham. First, if the technology were to evolve to be more like real-life—for example, entirely within one’s own head, Matrix-like. But that would raise all sorts of other questions and potential problems, too. The point here is that the artificiality of VR would have to be greatly reduced for it to pose any sort of unique threat.

The other thing would be if there was a lot more credible research indicating that vicarious violence permanently increases the propensity toward violence among otherwise mentally and emotionally healthy individuals. I’m a bit dubious that such a thing is likely.

So, at the moment, no, I don’t support making “VR murder” illegal, at least not until research provides good evidence that it could cause harm bad enough to justify the loss of freedom and liberty.

Arthur Answers, Part 3: Political dreck

Today’s questions, also from Roger Green, are all related to political stuff, long one of my main interests. First up:

How do you keep from getting depressed by the political dreck? Do you think being in NZ has helped you survive Agent Orange more easily?

The second part is the easiest to answer: Yes, absolutely. I’m safe from the all the terrible things that Donnie will do to the people of the USA who aren’t rich oligarchs or plutocrats, and I’ll also escape the economic pain that ordinary Americans will feel, too—unless he really does cause a global depression, of course. Our freedoms in New Zealand aren’t in any danger, and we may even elect a Left-leaning government next year, although it’s worth point out that most Republican politicians and pundits would call our current Right-leaning government “ultra-Leftist”.

All of which is part of the answer to the first question: It is quite possible for me to close my eyes and ears and ignore what happens in the USA, immersing myself entirely in this country and this part of the world. There have already been times when this has been very useful, since it allowed me distance to calm down my anger or as a salve for emotional pain.

Internet meme, author unknown.

The thing is, I feel awful about what’s about to happen to my homeland, the freedoms that will be lost, the decades of progress that will be erased, the severe hardship that the poor, the working class, and the middle class will all endure in order to transfer more and more of their money to the ultra-rich. But there’s also pretty much nothing I can do about it from here. I have no choice, really, but to try and have a buffer, some space to keep my head and heart safe from the coming dark times in my homeland, and New Zealand gives me that. This is part of what keeps me from getting depressed.

I also use what’s basically the “unsent letter” strategy: I write about whatever I’m outraged about at the moment—and Donnie outrages me every single day, sometimes several different times a day—and then I do nothing with it. That allows me to engage in a full-throated venting to express my rage and pain and disgust without censoring myself in any way. Sometimes, I delete such raging rants, but even if I don’t, I also don’t re-read them. Their purpose is merely to let out all the negativity I’m feeling so I can let go of it.

Then, I focus on all that’s positive: My husband and our wider family, our furbabies, the awesomeness that is summer in New Zealand, the great community we live in—all that and more. Add all that up, and I can cope remarkably well—so far, anyway. But it doesn’t take away the worry.

Next, Roger asked:

That spate of hate crimes and harassment post-election: why are Trump supporters such sore WINNERS?

The number of reported Trump-related hate crimes and harassment has slowed dramatically, but the overall question is still valid. I think it’s mostly the arrogance of victory among the “alt-right” creeps, people who have been frustrated by having a president who opposed them, after succeeding a Republican president who didn’t enact their agenda, and a Congress that similarly ignored them. They truly believe that Donnie’s going to turn the USA into their white, heterosexual, “Christian”, cisgendered man’s utopia, and that’s an at least partially justified belief. So, because they think they're seeing their dream come true, they feel freed to engage in all the racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, etc., etc., etc. rhetoric and violence they want. I think we’ll continue to see spikes every time Donnie or his gang do something against minorities, which they’ll do every time they need to distract attention from their corruption or mistakes.

Turning to the real world of Facebook, Roger asked:

What is your rule of thumb in how long you'll stay in a Facebook pissing match, and do you need to have the last word?

How long I’ll stay in a fight depends on whether I “know” my sparring partner(s), like if they’re “Friends” or friends of “Friends”, and whether I’m “discussing” something with one person or several.

If I know the other person(s) I’m “discussing” something with, I may engage for quite awhile. If I don’t, I usually try and limit myself to no more than a maximum of maybe five replies total, from both of us combined. This isn’t always a successful strategy, and I can get carried away sometimes, but it’s my goal.

I usually stop when I see the argument is pointless, that my opponent is being irrational, engaging in ad hominem attacks against me, using circular arguments, failing to provide any evidence to back up their opinions, etc. There have been several times in which a conversation like that went on too long and I deleted all my comments, making the other person look like some sort of deranged idiot raging into the wind. Earlier this year, I wrote about doing that.

This year in particular, I’ve become much better at simply walking away, starting with not responding in the first place (most common) to just abandoning a pointless argument. So, no, I don’t need to get the last word, and I’m even more likely to avoid doing so when my adversary declares I’ll try to have the last word—because I know that pisses them off by leaving them unsatisfied in their self-righteousness. Obviously that’s petty, but so are nearly all Facebook pissing matches, so it's in keeping with the ethos.

Related to Facebook, Roger asked:

Someone just wrote that he "rocked Facebook." What the hell does that even mean?

No idea, but it sounds like they were proud of their performance in one of those Facebook pissing matches. If so, it sounds like Danth’s Law in play. Other than that, maybe they promoted an event that many people took notice of or something. In general, I think that praising oneself for one’s actions on Facebook without the hashtag “#humblebrag” (or similar self-deprecating acknowledgement) would be a bit unseemly.

That’s it for today! There will be at least a couple more of these posts to finish up this series, but feel free to leave new questions in the comments. I can always do more posts, after all.

Arthur Answers, Part 2: About podcasting

For today’s question, Roger Green asks: “You ought to do a political podcast – oh, wait, you do! Besides the actual recording, what goes into making a podcast ready for listening?”

What a timely question, since I just released a new episode! Okay, so Roger actually asked the question two weeks ago, and I’ve released two podcast episodes between then and now, but still…

There are two aspects to making a podcast episode—the process, and the technology needed. Both vary, depending on the podcaster, so I’ll just stick to how I podcast.

First, the basic technological information: One has to have a microphone, some sort of audio interface to connect the microphone to the computer, and software to record the episode. The better the mic, the better the sound, but there’s good free software available that isn’t too hard to learn.

When I began podcasting I used an ordinary USB headset, of the type typically used (in 2007, anyway) for Skype calls. It plugged directly into the PC I had at the time, and my software was Audacity, which is open source free audio recording software. I used that for all of 2007, until Nigel gave me a new, better mic for my birthday in 2008.

Eventually I switched to a Macintosh and used the GarageBand software that comes with all Macs (and there’s a version for iOS devices, too). I also got a better audio mixer, and that was the setup I used until this year.

The process is the same, regardless of the software: Recording, editing, creating an MP3 file, uploading that to my podcast site, then promoting it on social media.

The recording is the most obvious: Press record and speak into the mic, click on stop when finished. That’s the easy part. Next, I have to listen to what I recorded, first to make sure the levels are right—not too loud or too soft—but also to listen for “dead air” (where I’m silent), areas where I say um too much, where I make mouth smacking noises (which really irritates some people), and even where I get things wrong, in which case I may re-record that part or else cut the entire thought.

This editing process can be as complex and time-consuming as one wants, really. For my AmeriNZ Podcast, I edit very lightly—mostly to remove dead air. That’s because that particular podcast has always been a bit more free-form. With 2Political Podcast, it’s much more complicated because there are two of us talking in two separate audio tracks. If I cut something from one track, I have to cut the exact same amount, and at the exact same time, on the other track or else they’ll get out of sync.

Because I edit AmeriNZ Podcast so lightly, that takes only about as long as it takes me to listen to the recording, maybe a bit longer. 2Political Podcast, on the other hand, tends to take two to three times as long as the finished podcast, meaning that a 45 minute episode would take, on average, 90 minutes to more than 2 hours to edit, and that's part of why they take so long to post (about which, an announcement is coming soon).

The next step is to prepare the MP3 file, and add the ID3 Tags, which adds information to the MP3 file, things like title, artist, album, track number, etc. This is how an MP3 player can tell you what a song is, who recorded it, what album it’s from, etc. I know some podcasters who manually add these tags, but I do NOT.

Both Audacity and GarageBand allow one to export a file as an MP3 and to add the ID3 tags at the same time (basically, it's like filling out a short form). However, I export in a high-quality file format, open that in iTunes, and use THAT to create the MP3 file and add the tags (both of which a very easy to do).

Next, I take the MP3 file and upload it to my podcast website (which is really a self-hosted Wordpress blog, with a special plug-in called podPress to post podcasts). I can upload it using FTP software, or through the website itself. I don’t usually make artwork (called “album art”) for specific episodes, but if I do I need to make that before I click “publish”, and I need to add it to my MP3 file.

Once the file is uploaded, I then write the “shownotes”, which is basic information about what the podcast episode is about, along with links to things I talked about or other related information. Basically, it’s a blog post, except that some of it will end up with the downloaded podcast (all of the ID3 tags are there, along with the album art, and some of the shownotes, too).

Once published, I share the episode on Google+, my AmeriNZ Facebook Page, and on Twitter. Finally, I post an announcement here on this blog. The five most recent episodes of both podcasts are listed on the righthand side of this blog, too.

Then, it starts all over again for the next episode.

Finally, I don’t script my podcasts at all, and much of the time I don’t even use any notes when I record. The quality would probably be higher if I did, but I’m only now getting to the point where I feel (and sound) comfortable reading a script, something that’s come about from doing voiceovers on my most recent YouTube videos, actually.

Those are the highlights of the process, and naturally there are a lot of specific details I left out. Nevertheless, that’s the general process. If anyone wants more specific information, feel free to ask in the comments or send me an email.

Thanks for the question, Roger!

There’s still time to ask a question if you want to, just ask in the comments to this post.

Arthur Answers, Part 1: Viel vergnügen beim Tanz

Today I start answering the questions posed in this month’s Ask Arthur series. Just like every other time I’ve done one of these, I’ll group questions that are related thematically, by subject, etc. Today is a good example of that.

The first question today comes from long-time friend, Sherry, who asked: “Do you remember a school dance we went to together?”

I absolutely do! These days, it seems, my long-term memory is better than remembering, say, what I had for lunch. Be that as it may, that was a significant event for me because it was one of a handful of dates I ever went on with a girl, and the only high school dance I ever went to.

The dance was, as far as I can remember, near Christmastime, and it was a “turnabout dance” in which the girls asked the boys. Sherry and I knew each other through church, but I can’t remember if we had any classes together. I’m also not entirely certain what year the dance was: I think it was in December of our sophomore year of high school (second of four years). That would make it the end of 1974, when I was 15.

When I was a teenager, it was common for young gay boys to date girls in high school and at university. My first-ever date (tenpin bowling) was with a girl from church, and that would have been in eighth grade (when I was about 13 or 14). In those days, with no real social acceptance, no gay-straight alliances, and no positive role models, most of us just never thought that we could live open, happy, authentic lives. Instead, most of us, including me, just assumed that one day we’d marry a girl, have kids, and that was that. That wasn’t denial—it was more like resignation, with a fair dose of delusion thrown in.

I doubt that many of us ever thought through the implications of living out a life that wasn’t true to who we were, but I came up with a complicated strategy to try and have the “happily ever after” everyone else got to have, something I wrote about several years ago.

As a teen, aware of who I was, but also believing I could never live a true and authentic life, I knew I had to learn how to function in “their” world; I had to learn how to seem to be one of them. I realise how sad that may sound, but it was actually quite useful for keeping me safe for many years afterward. However, it had an even odder way of helping me: When I moved to a new country and had to fit in, it was easier for me because I’d already learned how to do that, how to observe how other people acted and what behaviour was appropriate and what wasn’t.

When I was a teenager, none of the boy-girl stuff came naturally to me, so I had to be coached. For example, my mother had to teach me how to slow dance, something that never even occurred to me until she mentioned it. It was a “you don’t know what you don’t know” sort of thing.

I don’t remember a lot about the dance—it was a very long time ago—but I remember it was a nice time. Male fashion in the mid-1970s was awful, as we all know, and I if I was wearing what I think I was wearing, it was bad. I do remember that Sherry was very pretty, though, and I certainly enjoyed her company.

Some weeks later, the German Club at our high school was planning a trip to Zum Deutschen Eck, a German restaurant that was located at Southport and Oakdale in Chicago from 1956 to 2000. However, there was a huge winter storm at the time of the trip and the trip was cancelled. It turned out to be the last time I ever asked a girl out.

Some five or six years later, I was at university and a girl I knew asked me out to dinner and a play. I agreed, though I was pretty sure she saw it as a date, not just friends out for an evening, and that made me uncomfortable. By that time, I was starting to come out, though hardly anyone knew it. I ended up coming out to a mutual friend, who would have told her. Not the best ending to that story, and had I known what to do, and felt safe to do so, I’d have handled it differently. Neither was the case at that time.

A few weeks/months later, I went to a gay bar for the first time, danced with other guys, and then met my first boyfriend. I was 22. The rest, as they say, is history. I found out I could have a true and authentic life, that I could live happily every after, just like everyone else. And, things are so much better for gay teens now than when I was young.

Both Sherry and the other girl from church also found happiness, and both now have great families—and I’m friends with both on Facebook. So, all’s well that ends well, and all that: We all found our way into happy adult lives, and that’s the important part.

Next up, Roger Green asks: “You asked the reverse question to your straight male readers, who is your big female crush?”

What Roger’s referring to is a question I once posed on one of his “Ask Roger Anything” posts, one I borrowed from Rove McManus, an Australian TV presenter who hosted a talk show called Rove Live. He often asked guests he was interviewing a series of rapid-fire questions, one of which was, “Who would you turn gay for?”

It was tongue-in-cheek, since, as we all know, that’s not how people work, but the larger point was which person of the same gender people could see as attractive “in that way”, so to speak. I remember when then-Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd was on, he was asked the question and answered something about his wife was the only person for him. I rolled my eyes. At the time, Rudd was an opponent of marriage equality (though he later evolved).

For me, the answer to the question is even more complicated.

Over the years there have been a few women who I’ve seen as attractive “in that way”, mostly actresses, and none of whom I can remember the names of. However, Roger’s question was broader, about crushes. Even that’s a little problematic.

The truth is, I don’t remember having any crushes on a female at any age, though I definitely had crushes on other boys. When I was in sixth grade (roughly ages 11 and 12), all the boys were fixated on one girl who seemed older than we were because her development was a bit more advanced than ours, or that of the other girls. In retrospect, I think the boys all thought she was easy, even though I don’t think that was the case, and, anyway, none of the boys would have known what to do if they were right. I didn’t share their fascination, of course, but I did try to pretend I did, since that seemed to be the appropriate behaviour for boys. She was never a crush for me.

If I loosen the boundary of the question even more, I do remember being fascinated by some women, including Karen Carpenter, Linda Ronstadt, newswomen Linda Ellerbee and Jessica Savitch, along with some girls and women I knew in real life, but none of them were actual “crushes”.

What both these questions get at is the fact that I’m a Kinsey 6 (someone who is a six on the Kinsey Scale of sexual responses). In practice, that means that I’m drawn to women for their minds, talents, and spirit—the kind of people they are, in other words, not their “attractiveness” (which is relative, anyway). This is true for most of the men I’ve known, too, of course, but the difference is that whenever I was single, there was still never any possibility of an attraction to a woman, no matter how wonderful (in any sense) she was, while there could have been that possibility toward a man.

This is just the way I’m wired. Even though teenage me thought I had to learn to act and pretend to be straight, it didn’t change the reality of who I was—and am. This is why I was never any good at dating girls, and it’s also why I don’t think I ever had a crush on a female.

And so it goes.

The title of this post is one of the phrases we had to memorise in high school German class. It means, basically, “have a good time at the dance” (not a literal translation, though). I still remember that phrase and the only high school dance I went to, and that’s not a coincidence.

It’s ‘Ask Arthur’ time again

It’s once again time for my annual “Ask Arthur” series of posts, which I’ve been doing every December since 2012. I twice did an “Ask Arthur” series in July, but decided against it this year. This series is a chance for people to ask me nearly anything.

I try to answer whatever I’m asked, and I have no particular topics that are “off limits”, however, if I can’t answer something for whatever reason I’ll say so. So far, though, I’ve never had a question that I wouldn’t answer.

Past questions have been about me, life in New Zealand, being an expat, what I think about various topics, and so on. Many different things, many possibilities.

To ask questions, leave a comment on this post (anonymous comments are okay). Or, you can also email me your question (and you can even tell me to keep your name secret, although, why not pick a nom de question?). You can also ask questions on the AmeriNZ Facebook page.

As I always note, this idea is stolen from inspired by Roger Green’s “Ask Roger Anything” (“ARA”) posts, which he still does far more often than I do.

So, over to you: Ask your question whatever way works best for you, and I’ll do my best to answer it.

Previously:

What do you want to know? (December 2012)
Ask Arthur (July 2013)
Ask Arthur – Again (December 2013)
Ask Arthur Again, again (December 2014)
Ask Arthur yet again (July 2015)
It’s that time again (December 2015)