The Summer Sun's Calling My Name...Joey!

It's a gorgeous day here in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada! I hope the sun is shining wherever you may be.



I'm cranking up my sunshine mix (including Shoshana Bean, Astoria Boulevard, Bruno Mars, Robyn and many others) and heading out to embrace the day!

Until next time, get out and love the world, beauties!

My Friends Live in the Magic Box

My Friends Live in the Magic Box



I will never forget the sting of pain I felt as I watched Danny and Sandy zip up into the skies at the end of “Grease.” While all the other students of Rydell High enjoyed a day of frolic at the school’s carnival, I collapsed into a fit of sobbing that would have made Glenn Beck look only moderately upset. It was graduation day and that meant it was time to say good-bye to all of my friends. Frenchie? Rizzo? Teen Angel? Will no one stay with me?

That was the first time I remember feeling depressed after finishing a film in which I knew the characters were actually my friends, but it was certainly not the last. At this point, you may be rethinking your friendship with me, and I do not blame you. However, the time has come to open the closet door and come out. I, Joey Kuba, believe that I am a friend to almost every movie and television character that I have ever met. Phew, that feels better already.

I could definitely chalk this hysteria up to the fact that I possess a fiercely overactive imagination, but I have recently discovered a much more likely reason. The people I meet while watching television or a film are much better than real people. There it is. I am not referring specifically to any of my friends or loved ones, but more to people in the general sense. People (in the general sense) are often greedy, selfish, ignorant, needy, stubborn and annoying. On the opposite end of the spectrum, when I do meet people that are kind, funny, loving and loyal, I cannot push pause and keep them around. If only I could have a rewind button for life! Of course I would also require a mute button that I could, and definitely would, use with reckless abandon. No, Jehovah’s Witness, you should be quiet now. Republicans, shhh!

What does it say about me that I am completely content to be locked away in my room with hours of television and film at my disposal? There are days when the thought of interacting with actual human beings is nauseating. I have gotten through a number of uncomfortable situations by telling myself that it will all be okay, for I can soon return to my cabin and spend time with my friends at 30 Rock, McClaren’s Pub, a mining town in Northern England, or Truvy’s Hair Salon. Is that wrong? Do I need to speak with one of those magical mind-shrinking shamans that many other New Yorkers rave about? The answer to both of those questions is a clear I have no idea. What I do know is that I love my friends dearly. This time I am referring to the actual human beings. However, every now and then I will shut myself away from the “real world” (oxymoron alert!) and spend some much needed quality time with friends who will always make me laugh, or cry, or question why I am on this planet, or simply allow me the chance to feel nothing for two whole hours.

I wish I could stay a little longer, but I have to get going. Seth and Ryan asked me to go sailing to Catalina with them. I think Summer and Marissa will be coming along as well. Either way, this is going to be an epic trip. What could possibly go wrong?

Until next time…

An Ode to You While I Am Listening to Joni Mitchell and Watching “Milk” at 3am

Could you sit with me as I drift away?
My journey begins the same as every spark lit in the darkness.
Could you sit with me and begin to feel?
Your incautious advance gives way to my end.

Whisper light into the darkest reaches of my mind.
The path ensnared by ages of unwanted platitudes.
Whisper light into my weary heart.
Reflections of my discomposing joy illuminate your embrace.

Sing to me a song of contentment.
Bathe me in words deeper than the sea.
Sing to me a song of compassion.
Caress my soul with jarring comfort.

I ask not what I desire through touch, sound or sight.
My sight is set on unknown warmth.
I ask not what you desire through tears, pleas or hope.
Just give me your hand so that we may encounter tomorrow.

What Have You Done Today to Make You Feel Proud?

The time is here once again to put on copious amounts of sunscreen and join the throng of the LGBT community and its heterosexual supporters for a weekend of celebrating what makes us proud. June is commonly referred to as “Gay Pride Month,” and cities across the United States and the world hold festivals full of overwhelming amounts of acceptance, tolerance, music, dancing and other activities rooted in debauchery.

I am deeply saddened by the fact that I am not able to attend my “local” Pridefest in New York City, which is taking place this weekend. Already, I have seen pictures and videos from friends on the front lines in various states of celebration. Although I may have to enjoy the festivities vicariously through them, I feel it necessary take some time to express what makes me “proud.”

First and foremost, I am proud to be part of a community so resilient against disparaging remarks and actions, and so resolute in the fight for equality. A large victory was just won in New York State on Friday, when a bill was passed granting the ability for LGBT couples to be legally married. The amount of people who added their voice, time and tears to this specific cause are innumerable, and this victory has proven that the power truly is in the people. I am proud to be a New Yorker.

A point of personal pride is how far I have come in truly believing that there is nothing wrong with me. As a child I knew I was different. I would see how the other boys were so happy to play games in which the outcome was almost always a form of pain, and I would not want any part of it. I found joy and happiness through creativity, be it drawing, singing, dancing, or putting on my parents’ clothes and pretending to be someone I hoped to be one day. These were not activities that boys were meant to engage in, especially in my small community in rural Ohio. I am eternally grateful that my parents never told me that I was wrong. In fact, they encouraged me to be creative, even when my creativity led to putting on my grandmother’s pumps, carrying her umbrella around and pretending to be Mary Poppins.

Once I graduated high school and moved out into the “real” world, as I felt back then, I was overwhelmed with how many other men and women I met that had felt the exact same way, or something resembling it, as child. Yet even with the confirmation that I was not alone after all, there was still something in my mind that told me a part of what made me me was wrong. I knew what it was, but I did not want to deal with it. It was an all-encompassing fear that God himself hated me and would be sending me to burn for all eternity when I died.

The community I grew up in was as deeply rooted in Christianity as it was in farming. God created the world and all things in it in seven days, sent his only son to live with a virgin and doting husband only to grow up and die for the sins of mankind. There were also all of the rules in the Bible about what was pleasing to God and what was pure evil and disappointing to God. I had always been told that being a homosexual was on the list of disappointments. In fact, it was not merely disappointing, it made God mad; mad enough to send all those found guilty of leading such a lifestyle to burn in a lake of fire. I did not even like taking hot showers, so I was certainly not looking forward to the fire part.

Luckily, through all of the rhetoric spewed at me by fearmongers, something else made it through. Love. I knew that a God who created things like music, art, dance, sunshine, flowers, laughter and ice cream could not be so heartless. I remember listening to sermons about how much God loved all of his creations, including me. I did not see room in my life for a God that loves me with such intensity to be so quick to allow me to burn in eternal damnation. No, no, I knew that God loved me and he would put people in my life that would illustrate that beautifully. Although it has not been until this year, some nine years later, that I have truly believed that.

Whoa, do you remember when this post began with a distinct topic? Okay, great. I am glad that one of us does.

I would like to summarize my ramblings thusly: in the end, love will always win.

My name is Joseph Michael Kuba and many things am I, but for today, above all things, I am proud.

Silver Linings Are Worth Their Weight In Gold?

Hello! I am reporting live from Serious Coffee, my favorite caffeine spot in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. The end of another cruise has arrived and it will soon be time to start all over with a new set of passengers.

For those of you that may not know, I am spending my summer in Alaska aboard the ms Amsterdam. This is my second contract in Alaska and not much has changed up here. Each port has its own unique feeling, yet they all have a certain amount of rugged, outdoorsy energy. As I spend more time here, it becomes abundantly clear that Sarah Palin could not be from anywhere else. Hence the reason that I do not wish to spend anymore time here than I must contractually spend.

I was meant to finish my contract on September 2nd and HAPPILY return home. However, we have been extended through December 5th. The silver lining in this situation is the fact that I will finally be able to visit Australia and New Zealand. The hard part is that I have already had to turn down / missed the opportunity for two projects with fantastic creative teams. I resolve to remain positive about these additional three months, yet my heart is longing for home more than I can adequately express through words. No, this would require you to see me running amok like a stone-throwing anarchist.

I am very much looking forward to August when I will be joined by a special guest for a week of cruising debauchery. This man is a brilliant writer and I may be planning to tie him to a chair at my desk and make sure that he completes a novel in that time. I jest, of course. Seriously though, you know who you are. Write me a novel!

Time is rushing away and the warm embrace of a sunny day calls my name, so it shall be here that I bid you adieu.

Love wins,
Joey

Hello? Is it me you are looking for?

I do apologize that it has been quite some time since I have posted. I shall be more attentive in the future.

A new post will be coming shortly.

But for now, 'til then...

Whether or Not

I stand and I look right at you, thoughts running through my head. How I thought you were my best friend, but now it's different. Nobody could have planned it, but still you went on right through, broke the trust that I had in you.

Whether or not you know it. Whether or not I show it. I can't forget and I won't forgive, but I travel along. I know you never meant to hurt me, and it's easy to say that we'll be okay. Cause now, I've seen you laugh, you've seen me smile. We joke around, when all the while, I'm just falling deeper.

Whether or not you know it. Whether or not I show it. I can't forget and I won't forgive, but I travel along giving you that thought that I moved on. I don't want to lose you, but this is the truth.

I stand and I look at you two. I see why you both work out. He's yours without a doubt. I wish that I could play that role, be the one to share your joy with, but I'm still with these feelings I can't control.

Whether or not you know it. Whether or not I show it. I can't forget and I won't forgive, but I travel on giving you that thought...

But I've not moved on.