Gary's Third Pottery Blog
"Men are but gilded loam or painted clay" --Richard the Second, Shakespeare.
Gary's third pottery blog

WRITE TO ME! garyrith@yahoo.com Come see me! Open studio HERE Nov. 28-29; Binghamton, NY Unitarian Church Nov. 1-2; Cooperstown Art. Assoc. Nov. 17-Dec. 24 All material on this blog unless stated otherwise is copyright Gary Edward Rith 2013-2014

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

guyishness

Once again, I am a columninst for She Says, a women's meg-blog. Wednesday is Q and A!

He Says: ask a guy by Gary


Add your opinons and new questions in the comments section, and next week Gary will answer some of those questions.
DISCLAIMER: Gary is an unlicensed and untrained advice columnist and a smart azz to boot. You have been warned :)

Before we get too far into Q and A, I have to explain why my wife asked the question below. I happened to look out the window the other day and she was gardening 2 stories below me. (good luck with THAT monster patch of weeds...) and there was a pleasant cracked rear view for me to behold, and I am like, typically guyish, thinking to myself: "I bet she jumps and squeals if I dropped a wad of wet tissue out the window and onto that unsuspecting little strip of tender flesh". And so basically I lobbed I wad of wet tissue at her unsuspecting cracked rear view 2 stories below, and well, I missed. I hit her in the back, 2 inches above the strip of flesh, but soaked her shirt pretty well. There was a very satisfying SQUEAL, JUMP AND SHOUT and a few curses as well. I was a little surprised though that she was angry. She wanted to know WHY? ("its like Everest, dear, because it is there" I begin to explain...) But there is more, really...

The wife asks me "why are guys so GUYish?" Like when she catches me slurping some juice, um, straight from the bottle...and she goes on to mutter "well, we DO kiss but the dentist says never share toothbrushes..." and I explain....Actually, I say nothing. There are times when you are a guy and it is best to keep your mouth shut. There is NO explanation, other than you didn't think she was looking. And drinking juice after I have slurped it has not, um, killed her yet, so you wonder what the harm is and pledge to yourself yo drink from the bottle in more stealthy ways.
Guys are GUYS. There is no reason for it. We are silly and immature little jerks, its true, especially ME.

Which brings us to this. Last week's big question was how to successfully online date, a sincere question from a woman asking absolutely the WRONG person, me, but that won't stop me from trying.
I say to single women: GO LESBIAN. Men are worthless. Take it from this worthless man. Forget about us. Need a baby? Get a puppy or kitten. A whole lot less trouble.

OK, not gonna go lesbian? Alright.

My nearest experience with online dating goes back to 1991, before there WAS online dating, or my wife. In those days, there were personals. Me and my cat answered a personal when we lived in Chicago. It sounded like a sexy young art student. I was a sexy young art student myself. I replied with a handwritten and punchy and ironic sentence, and sent it off to the PO box. I had a reply. She said she had dozens of letters, but only liked mine. And she lived on the next block! I went into ninja stealth mode and went and looked at her building, all excited about the possibilities. And sent back a bizarre 4 page letter telling all about my pathetic life and kinky habits. never heard back, surprise! With men, we need to remember, the less said the better. (see above: we are guyish, we are immature, we are trouble) The week after the letters? Got together with the wife. 18 plus years ago!

I tell my single men friends: do POTTERY. When I was in college, and now when I teach at Cornell, it is 80 women, and 2 guys. And one of those guys, me, is married! For women, where are the men??? You go down past the sports bars at 1 on Sunday: packed with men! You may not like any of those oafish, drunken football lovers, but hey, its where the men are for real.

On the other hand, I have been to like, 4-5 weddings in my whole life. Including mine. I am not one of those people who goes to weddings. Never been to a funeral. I don't really, ah, erm, eh, well, do big events. Or go to small events. I like to go to the library. The grocery store. The Chapterhouse bar. But The fifth wedding I went to was David's. David is my buddy here in Ithaca, a local politician, and he admits he and his wife met at match dot com. David is not like me. I would marry David. He is sold, honest, funny and fun. She is a lucky lady, he is a lucky man, and the drinks at their wedding were abundant and free, which may be why some people like weddings.

My best pal Kasey gets married in Iowa this fall. She tells me:
"Scott was the friend of a friend, and we met briefly onetime. Then he stalked me on Myspace. Then he contacted me. Now we are getting married!" Its so much easier for men to stalk women now that we have the internets, isn't it? There probably aren't as many perverts and psycho killers out there are Hollywood would have us believe.


My pal Maureen has a lot to say about internet dating:

"George and I were just talking about On Line dating a few weeks ago. Had a wonderful, funny, conversation on it. I told him when I was a young girl, the girls would bring out this REALLY LAME GAME called "Mystery Date"...I never would play, stupidest thing I ever saw.
Anyway the girls would spin a wheel, and pic a card, turn it over, and say..."Oh, I am in love, look who I got"! Then they would run over to their closet, change into dress wear, put make up on, with this lame picture of a guy that looked like Wally Cleaver, in a suit.

Well, you can imagine how hated I was by the girls, I would watch these stupid idiots, play out this whole thing with amazement. I told them, "You are legit crazy"!....It's a postcard...lol lol lol...:) They also had a loser guy, the wah wah...actually he looked just like the type of guy I love, jeans, t-shirt, gym shoes, you know just like every kid in school...lol lol lol...I mean "What the hell was the message to this game".....'GO FOR THE MONEY"....I am serious."

I have one hell of a true story, about this woman, it is a scream, and for real...


Our daughter Carrie, got a job with a new guy in a near by town. Anyway, his name was Roman, he was the absolute Computer Tech Head Geek, brilliant, actually, and oh so funny. He looked very similar to Drew Carey, Black Horned Rimmed glasses, and all. Anyway, it was so refreshing to finally have a college guy move into the area. He was married, with a child, so he started his own ISP Services. At that time he was the only game in town, here in "Moo Town", no one had access to dial up, I mean this is "Green Acres" for sure.

Anyway, he started this with his other brilliant college friends. Well naturally Carrie and I were attracted to this immediately. So Carrie got a job with these "Hip, highly intelligient, hysterically funny" group. It was the place to be. And besides, Carrie and I wanted to see just how this would work out...I mean it's definitely, "When World's Collide", Geeks vs HIcks...lol lol lol

On the the dating story, he had a customer who was the biggest pain in the butt you can imagine, she looked and had the same personality as Mimi of the sitcom with Drew Carey, even looked like her, only heavier, and oh was so dumb! She made Za Za Gabor look like Einstein. lol lol lol...! She always tried to dress in way too sexy clothes, for this area. Fish net stockings, red heels, platinum blonde hair, and so much makeup, sort of like Tammy Baker. loll ol lol....but sweet? NO WAY, Barracudas are more cudly! lol lol lol

Anyway, her email locked up with the dial up. She said she is sending her new online boyfriend a photo, and it keeps crapping out. She said "I forgot to resize the photo, it was too large"! So Roman says disgruntedly, okay, I will pull up the photo, and resize it, and send. So she is standing next to him, and he pull up the photo, He had a T3, so it was sweet! Anyway, in front of all the college guys in the store, and Carrie and I, on his large screened monitor, OMG, this photo pops up, and it is her, in the buff, posing in the doorway of her bathroom. Roman yells, OMG MY EYES, THEY BURN!!!! Everyone burst into laughter. Roman yells, "What the hell have I told you about posting stuff like this, are you crazy"! "Your gonna get yourself killed"! She replies, "I have this new boyfriend in Tenessee, and I want to meet him"! He says, OMG you are insane!!!!!! Roman says, "ALL I CAN SAY, IF AFTER HE SEES THIS PHOTO, AND STILL WANTS TO MEET YOU, I WOULD BE VERY AFRAID, VERY AFRAID"! She still lived at home with Mom and Dad of course! Anyway he resized the photo and says, OMG HIS EMAIL IS HOGLOVER! I hope that means the Motorcycles! "

Good lord, basically, you feel kinda lucky to be a married guy, you know????

Gary Edward Rith is a househusband, full-time studio potter and sculptor and part-time instructor at the Cornell University Pot Shop. Confessions of a Kept Man appears every Monday and Thursday, and Gary's answer column "He Says: ask a guy, by Gary" appears every Wednesday. Gary blogs a whole lot of pottery and other baloney at his blog
http://garysthirdpotteryblog.blogspot.com/

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

bleeding fugitive breaks into my house...


...kiln full of stuff breaks down this afternoon and I NEED THAT STUFF, but I think I can fix it tomorrow...go to cut the grass, NOPE..broken mower...sitting on our back porch and here comes this bleeding man out of the woods, breaks into our house, 6 sheriffs and state troopers chasing him into my house...
but at least we have water :)

I have had it with June. A little too crazy.

update later: so less than 30 minutes after BLEEDING FUGITIVE runs into my yard and tries to get into our house and is arrested by 6 troopers and sheriffs....there he is....FREE...on the corner...domestic dispute, she will NOT press charges, and he is out on the street...chief of police tells my neighbor "buy a gun"

maybe see some of you?

Opening party, Friday 5-8, Belle Melange Gallery, 210 West State, Ithaca
PLUS open studio Saturday 1-5 at my house, 540 Main, Etna, NY (rt 366, the purple house!)

Tuesday....




(pottery by Gary Rith)

Monday, June 28, 2010

do NOT be a mangey bear down there.....


So, as you know, I am blogging columnist for a women's mega-blog, She Says, by the ladies (and Gary). Here is todays thang on shaving....and YES, you may recognize yourself here!

Confessions of a Kept man: diary of an anarcho-punk potter and househusband, by Gary.

OK, so Thursday was one of those challenging days, where everything goes wrong, and then overnight? The well CONKS OUT. No water! I call the guys, and they look around, shake their heads, mutter a lot, and say "we'll see you Monday". And its like "GREAT! No water until Monday?". Luckily we dragged water buckets from the neighbors to see us through. But some things dropped out, like, um, flushing every time, and shaving. I just took that pic there, its been a couple of days since the razor saw my face....

Shaving has become one of those bewildering things, here in our society. In my youth, it seemed like we let our freak flags fly. Then we get to the rollicking twenty-teens and its like, even in the NY TIMES June 17: man shaving it all. But you look at ads, and models have five days growth on the face, NOTHING on the chest. And women, of course, have discovered that there is more to Brazil than soccer and beaches.

We watched THE WRESTLER the other day, and there is Mickey Rourke shaving his pits, ewwww! What happened to my hero, hairy Tom Selleck? Back in 1993 I grew a mustache like his. It got BIG and fuzzy. In the late 90s, although I was married to a woman, guys who play for the other team gave me their phone number. Winked at me. I was like, HUH? In 2003, the stache came OFF and when the wife got home, she was like, for the first time "Thank GOD". She was too polite to say anything for ten years....

My good friend Bob has remarked on this fact, shaving is BORING. It is. Bobby, as you remember from last week, may be the most handsome man on earth, and he sure does, um, seem to get around with the ladies. I ask Bobby what he prefers:
"every few days I use a beard trimmer on my face, that is IT".

I went to my BAMF posse of women panelists for advice, once again. Its a good thing I did:

"The comments on undies was sensational. Can I pick your brain slightly once again?

Gary
MEN: shaving, the face, the head, the _______

Lizzie
lol i may need to think on this one .....

Gary
pour some cheapo jug vino and let 'er rip.....


Jill
Shaving.... okay.... I will go from top to, er... bottom...

The Head: ...if you are in the mood.... bic-it baby! I don't actually mind a bald head at all...on the right guy... my husband would look silly. :) However, and my personal favorite, if you can grow it long - grow it long!! I ♥ the mountain man look. ;) Anything in between is good too.

The Face: If you can grow a full beard then for god sakes man! GROW A BEARD! I have a HUGE weakness for a man in a full beard. My husband (god love him) wears a full bead all year long - just because I think he looks so freaking fine with a full beard. ( i have attached a photo of my husband with said beard as an example - I am in the back ground). ... again I ♥ the mountain man look. ;)

The Nether-Region: Hmmm... well... I don't really care I guess. I guess I would prefer it au-natural - but bottom line KEEP IT CLEAN! ;)

In my opinion - shaving is optional! ;)


Becky Jo
Jill, you're so freakin' funny... 'The Nether-Region' <---- !!! ;)

Gary
ROCK ON JILL. That is key, I think: different guys look better with different shaving looks. MORE opinons please! gr

Becky Jo
Ok, sorry... I was still laughing about Jill's post.... shaving, ok... here it goes.

The Noggin: Shaving is ok if you've got a good shaped head. My darling husband CLAIMS that he has a bumpy head, so he'll never shave it, which is ok with me. I have a friend that shaves his head religiously, and that's because he's my age and is already going bald.. so yeah, it's a good move for him... plus his noggin is round w/o weird bumps.

The face: I prefer no face hair on the spouse, mostly because he'll never grow a full beard so that 5 day growth thing isn't any fun. It's spikey and that makes for no-fun kissing. Brian has grown a goatee before, and that's pretty hot. As far as all the other guys on the planet, grow whatever your lady will let you grow. Shaving as a task sucks and if you don't have to, why do it?

Down south: Why? Why would any man shave there? I vote a big hairy NO to shaving down south. It just seems to risky. ;)

Way down south... I vote all guys that have giant hairy toes shave them. Why? Because feet are gross enough just the way they are, why add toe hair to the mix?... well, maybe you want to pretend your a hobbit in Lord of the Rings, but still... hairy toes are creepy.

Gary
TOES! The last frontier....

Kasey
I am anti-facial hair. A bit of scruff is fine, but beards/moustaches/goatees. No. I feel like beards hide the handsome. One of my best friends had one forever (He finally shaved it. When I saw his face I clapped and squealed.) He kept saying, "Well I hate my face." It's a good face! Nothing to hate. Let your face be out and proud.
Then you see Jill's husband the beard works. So who am I to say? I guess if you want me to clap, jump and squeal at the site of you you'll go facial hairless.

The head. As my best friend has said, "People that shave their head when they aren't going bald is a slap in the face to bald men everywhere." I stand by his statement.

Down in the pants. Keep it tidy. Shaving it all off? I've read Cosmo, are you doing this as an optical illusion to make it appear larger? It just makes it weird looking. You aren't fooling anyone.

Jill
OMG... I just LOVE you ladies... you all keep me in stitches! :D

Kasey
I would say shaving their weens is probably only as risky as us shaving our vajeenes. I doubt many men go down there with a straight razor. THAT would be risky.

Gary
KEEP IT TIDY?
And maybe not ALL men need to do anything to make their whopper look bigger, because it is already a wildebeast.
I will be honest here: I was gonna have ultra-sound and a wee bit of surgery on my OO I was told to you know, shave it off. Wicked difficult, frankly. And later, there you are, in a dark room with this young woman who is an ultra-sound tecnician and you are undressed and she smears lube all over your OO and also your !
and you WOULD think it is a XXX experience, but NO! Full retreat. Lady goes home later and probably tells her husband she saw the smallest weenie on earth today...and then, in surgery? Again you are undressed, and here is this HOT nurse and you know, she has to grab your ! and your OO and you would think it is a XXX experience, but what you get is full retreat from fear, and she probably goes home and tells her husband she saw the tiniest weenie on earth today. Dinner time conversation no doubt.


Kasey
The thing is, I think boys are kind of a bunch of pussies.
We gotta contort our bodies in all sorts of ways to be sure we're presentable to put on a dang bathing suit. Going out in something as modest as underpants isn't bad enough, we have to make sure we don't let the world know that we are human and grow hair in places that humans grow hair.
Ya'll get to wear shorts and let yourselves be as hairy as you wanna be under there.

Tidy means, if the area looks like it belongs to a mangey bear, do a bit of trimming.

Christi
What Kasey said. I vote for tidy. As for sharp instruments and sensitive bits, there's always waxing.

Gary Edward Rith June 24 at 10:46am
I might be a mangey bear, but I am LOVEABLE, and probably HAWT in a Burt Reynolds 1978 kinda way.

Kasey

I say let everyone do with their pubes what they want.

Jill
I am down with the 1978 look... probably because I was born in the wrong generation... I'm just asking that it is washed regularly. ;)

Becky Jo
Oh god.... can't breathe... so funny... Gary, stop it. My stomach hurts.

Gary Edward Rith June 24 at 12:00pm
SPEAKING of 1978, and I am so glad we have a cross section of tastes AND ages here, when I was 12, which I was in 1978, a boy could not WAIT to get the manly chest hair. You kinda shake your head these days and you're like "what are young men DOING?". Becky Jo, your husband has the absolute best hair atop his head---take the man to HOLLYWOOD he is so handsome!

Maureen
I love a clean shaven Man! Although I am a firm believer in people should do what they feel most confortable with. I wouldn't want George to shave his pubic area. If he did (which wouldn't happen unless he was put in front of a firing squad} it would be okay too. We just do the regular shaving hygiene routines. Honest, saw a foreign woman at our beach with huge bushy armpits, her crotch hair was so long it came out of her bikini bottom and wrapped to the front of her suit. Her legs had more hair than my husbands, and she had a huge dark moustache, complete with hairy toes and fingers. And no this was not a man, the kids were the same. Her husband looked like a Yeti! Now in that case I would use a weed wacker on George and I! lol lol lol :) God I actually saw the Bride of Bigfoot, and her family! :) I wish I would of had a camera then..all of you wouldn't believe it!

Gary
GOLLY thanks Maureen. BRIDE OF BIGFOOT! Back in my youth I had a thing going with Bride of Bigfoot's niece. People were a lot hairier back then......"




Back to reality. The water is back on, thanks to my new best buddies the well guys, and later I will BATHE for the first time in a couple of days. But, you know, I got this macho scruff going on here. Does it turn on the LADIES? There is only one lady that counts, and I ask whether it should go or stay the wife says:

"I like a little scruff, I like a little beard burn on my......." WELL THEN!


Gary Edward Rith is a househusband, full-time studio potter and sculptor and part-time instructor at the Cornell University Pot Shop. Confessions of a Kept Man appears every Monday and Thursday, and Gary's answer column "He Says: ask a guy, by Gary" appears every Wednesday. Gary blogs a whole lot of pottery and other baloney at his blog
http://garysthirdpotteryblog.blogspot.com/

Check out Gary at pottersblog! and at www.garyrith.com or at my online etsy sales gallery!

Penny = BERRY HOUND




Sort of into low impact cooking this weekend, what with the NO WATER thing. Like tofu pups over an open flame and Georges Le Soq's tater tot chili....which was pretty messy actually.
Both of our dogs love berries, and WOW! The black raspberries and raspberries and blackberries are starting to pop out at the park. We walk there several times a day, the dogs drag us over, and just start feasting. They taste super good!



Sunday, June 27, 2010

oh yay!

Dig some groovy stuff coming out of the studio. Happy SUNDAY!



(pottery by Gary Rith)

Saturday, June 26, 2010

the guy tells me "don't kill yourself"

We woke up Friday morning and the well pump had a problem and we did not have any water. The soft water guy had been here Wednesday and warned us the well pump was dying. But he does NOT do well stuff. Anyway, I called the well guys who came over late Friday morning. I did not know much about wells or my well before, that has changed.
Our house is 145 years old. There was a well pump motor in our basement with 2 pipes going through the wall to a small addition built onto the house 70 years ago. Our basement is dry and full height, the addition is over a crawl space. I had never been in there. Me and the well guys went in there to find where the pipes went, presumably down a hole. The photo below of all that mess shows the crawl space.
The well guys found a plastic bucket covered our well head. They warned me I might have a dry welll and then I would be F##KED. There is an addition over my well! You cannot work on a well like that. Sigh. But I need water....
I did not think it likely we would be dry. Ithaca is impossibly wet year 'round, and we have a river running through our back yard. The guys say that doesn't have anything to do with it. There is a lot to learn about wells isn't there?
Anyway, they cut my pipes and we haul them out. The well turns out to be a standard metal pipe 5-6 inches wide, going down 57 feet. We have plenty of water starting at 26 feet. That is super good news: PLENTY OF WATER. But obviously it means the well pump and motor, as we had been warned, was dying.
OK, anyway, the well pipes and all, at the top, were all jerry rigged and stupid, and there was a massive accumpulation of junk and several feet of dirt around the top of the well. In order to put in a new pump, new lines down the well to the pump, in order to be legal and decent it needed a new well head. The well guys are like "you gotta dig down several feet to that spot, move all this out of the way, so that on Monday we can come back and work. We don't dig that stuff out. We got another well to work on today." and one of them says, a kindly grandfather type "but don't kill yourself!". He meant, of course, do the job but don't get hurt, not worth it.
I am sure you noticed that: it is Friday morning and I have no water until Monday.
I go to the neighbors and haul ten gallons of water back to our house. It is remarkable how fast you use water. I will need at least ten more gallons today. I think we outta go swimming. With soap!
OK, so after I have the water, I grab the camera, the shovels, and put on clothes I figure I could burn if needed. I go under the addition and start shoveling down to the original well head, as instructed.
I am hoping for BURIED GOLD COINS, but creepily, maybe not surprisingly, I find 3 human looking bones. I am wondering if somebody got tired of grandpa way back when, chopped him to bits and buried him under the new addition? Forgot to get pics of the bones, but I will try later....
Anyway, I turn up occaisional rotten wood pieces. DANGER WILL ROBONSON!
Just as I finish clearing down to the top of the well head pipe, as instructed, MY BOOT, and ME, FALL THROUGH TO NOTHING! You see it in the pic here. I cursed like a sailor, stopped my fall and climbed out.
You can see in the pic: apparently 145 years ago, in what would have been the house's side yard, they hand dug a well a few feet wide. Obviously later, they put pipe down the center of the hand dug well and a wooden cover over the top, which had become buried with dirt and junk----well, move ahead 70 or so years, I am digging along, and break into the old well by accident.
I remember seeing Lassie years ago--Timmy falls into an old well. Tis a nightmare of mine, really, and if you wonder why I work out and do a lot of chin ups, as I tell the wife, I want to be able to lift myself out of a hole. Friday I almost had to lift myself out of a hole.
OK, no harm done. But I was done for the day, cleaned myself up with a rigged shower, and took my laundry down to the apartments on the corner...and missed my first Friday happy hour in over a year. Good thing we had gone out last Monday....


An ugly place to spend the day.
And here you can see where I started to fall into the original well......

Friday, June 25, 2010

one of those months...one of those days...



(rather extraordinanry pots by Gary Rith)
YOU'LL NOT here me whingeing and whining, OH NO!
But, well, seems like a lot of stuff has been breaking down in my life lately. There is probably a scientific principle involved here, so I wrote a wee little poem to try to UNcurse the various mechanical items in my life:

Broken computer,
Wife hacks it apart,
Now better than new...

NO BRAKES!
Autoworks guy does his magic,
Partly covered by warrenty, YES!

BLACK THURSDAY: sh!t hits the fan.
Tax forms from hell, dropped a tray of fresh made pots,
Fat woodchuck eats garden, but WAIT!

It gets worse.

Water done gone,
One last flush,
Money down the drain,
Plumber driving a Mercedes.....

DO NOT SAY: what next?

Thursday, June 24, 2010

tighty whities vs boxers smackdown


OK, as you keep hearing me say, I am writing for a women's megablog called SHE SAYS by the ladies (and Gary). I am the adored (or a at least tolerated) little brother hanging around the slumber party.
Many of the interviewees here will be familiar to you....

BOXERS vs BRIEFS????

OK, this all started Monday in the late afternoon. At lunchtime, I accidentally squeeze out bean glop from the back end of my burrito, onto the pants, the shirt, but with a helpful lick from the dog, I figured GOOD ENOUGH. Remember, I am a POTTER, an ANARCHO-PUNK, and maybe I have a high tolerance for crapola on my clothes. Or maybe 13 years of being a househusband has made me a slob. MORE of a slob. I mean, if you aren't going out into public, then....?
But like I started to say, Monday afternoon I want to GO OUT OF THE HOUSE, get the wife, drink beer and play pool. There are, um, people of my aquaintance who are basically, really, hobos. A little less than clean and sweet smelling. I DO NOT want to join them down in the dumpsters, nor do I want people thinking I need to be hosed down.
I go to the closet, fetch a clean pair of tan pants and grey tee identical to the grey tee and tan pants already on. I get on these kicks. One week, I wear all my Felix the cat tees. Next week, all my punk, Sonic Youth, Ramones tees. Its a grey-tan week. Anyway, I pull off the old, and see myself in the mirror and I am like

"I HATE THESE UNDERPANTS"

I got several pairs of undies back in 1996 and have not thought about it since. Sure, you have holes and rips, but who is looking at my undies? My wife is too polite to say anything (GOD I LOVE HER) but the fact is, these undies go back to Clinton vs. Dole. Shoot....

I go to an expert. (some names have been changed here to protect the innocent and the GUILTY) My friend Bob is perhaps the most handsome man on earth. He is totally sweet natured and loveable, and we have discussed this underwear thing many times. Additionally, I get the feeling he CARES, or at least has noticed, what his undies look like. I was talking to Marie at the store the other day about Bob, and Marie is like "Leslie told me that every woman in Ithaca has slept with BOB! Except me." I am thinking Bob is pretty expert on undies, and he puts it simply:

"BOXER BRIEFS."

OK, the theory behind briefs is this: they hold stuff IN PLACE so you are not flopping about loosely, like those Greek Olympians painted on statues 2000 years ago. The theory behind boxers is....I have no idea. And don't Mormons and the Amish wear....?

I decide to put the question to my posse, my gang, my BAMF expert panel of women, and they DO NOT disappoint:

Gary
Hey, Boxers vs. Briefs, and YOU WILL be quoted:

Jill
Definitely boxers over briefs. There is NO question. ANY man looks better in boxers... do I need to make a reference regarding banana hammocks on the beach??? I think not..... Additionally, scientific studies have shown that boxers are healthier for men. So if it's not for looks, lets at least wear boxers for your health! Go Boxers! ;)

Lizzie
hmm, I'm with Jill on this one. Boxers are definitely more appealing, in every way. I think men who wear boxers are intrinsically more relaxed and confident. Tighty whitey's seem to restrict personality as well as, well you know, other things.lol

Becky Jo
If I have to make a decision, I vote boxers... or well, commando isn't a bad choice either. ;D

Gary
Becky Jo, remember the zippers and the delicate parts!!!!

Kasey
If you're wearing jogging shorts or anything of that nature then FOR THE LOVE OF GOD put on some briefs. We don't need to see that thing flopping around in your shorts. Get it under control.
The rest of the time, I'm a boxer briefs sort of gal. They offer support and leave a bit to the imagination.
It seems a lot of gay men are into briefs. I did live above a gay underwear store so I feel I have a bit of knowledge on the subject. When it first opened I took my parents in there during a neighborhood event. Before we entered my Dad asked, "What makes these gay underwear?" We got in and I said, "Would you wear these?".
This isn't part of the question, but I'd like to say. The thought of a man not wearing underwear under jeans skeeves me out. That's a rash waiting to happen.


Gary
I think the whole gay briefs thing goes back to Marky Mark. Straight men are a lot more into comfort than gay men, and straight men are slobs, never caring what we look like :)
Thank YOU LADIES!

Becky Jo
Kasey, ya know how you can tell that they are undies for gay men? Every single guy in those ads has NO HAIR. I don't know about all the other straight guys out there, but MY husband is NOT shaving his legs... or any other parts of his body that are not his face. **EEK** ;)

Gary
shaving bits = topic for a post next week, OH YES

Kasey
Perhaps other men are more impressed by ridiculous underpants than women are. Cuz I know if Scott came home in some underpants that said "firefighter" on them I would laugh him out of the room.

Gary
I get it---sort of doubly arousing, eh? The thought of a hunky FIREMAN plus also the Freudian thing about fire hoses representing..... On Valentine's, I swear I am not making this up, I took a sharpie and drew a well-placed elephant onto one of my elderly pairs of undies. The wife laughed....

Maureen
Well, my thoughts are more in the lines of function vs. Art. I think for function boxers are more practical, however, they come in an array of design motifs that I find amusing, i.e., my husband George's boxers: black with large red women's lips on them, or the one's with smiley faces, or the Sci-fi glow in the darks. Boxer's definitely if a man is in a hurry... , to do manly things. Now if one wants to be "Hot" then briefs are the ticket, when George wears his "tighty whities", now that makes my heart go a flutter. They too come in stunning colors, and styles, I guess it boils down to the ultimate question, "Are you wearing them for speed, and comfort, or are you just trying to be hot and cool looking?
George loves when I wear my Victoria's Secret underwear, but after a while, I say "Ugh, can't wait to get this crap off"! lol lol lol Oh, I hate men who wear speedos or thongs...not impressed. Just think they look dorkey, and overstated...:)

Gary
GLOW IN THE DARK?

But, really, enough of my bawdy friends, what does the wife say?

"BOXER BRIEFS"

Gary Edward Rith is a househusband, full-time studio potter and sculptor and part-time instructor at the Cornell University Pot Shop. Confessions of a Kept Man appears every Tuesday and Thursday, and Gary's answer column "He Says: ask a guy, by Gary" appears every Wednesday. Gary blogs a whole lot of pottery and other baloney at his blog
http://garysthirdpotteryblog.blogspot.com/

LIFE IS JUST A CHAIR OF bowlies
Susan originally is like: "I need a big yellow bowl with grey- blue accents, can-do???" and I am like "got it!" and further Susan is like "using your buttery, lemoney yellow glaze, righto?" and I am like "got it!".

SO, she see the pic below and is like "I dunno, looks like NEON YELLOW to me". Trust me. Same buttery yellow, Susan, BAD pic. And some of you may remember the "LIfe is just a bowl of cherries" thing reversed and funny as "life is just a chair of bowlies"....


Wednesday, June 23, 2010

GARY: advice columnist and guru for the gals...

So, you know, I am the lone dude writing for a women's mega blog. Sort of like, as they said in that newspaper comic Bloom County, hanging around on the planet of beautiful women. I was asked to join them, and you KNOW I was gonna say yes. And now, on top of my silly editorials twice a week, we got my ADVICE COLUMN too. Posted here now and sometime today at She Says: by the ladies (and Gary)

He Says: ask a guy by Gary


Add your opinons and new questions in the comments section, and next week Gary will answer some of those questions.
DISCLAIMER: Gary is an unlicensed and untrained advice columnist and a smart azz to boot. You have been warned :)

My wife gets QUESTION number one, and why not? I am nothing without her, a SLUG ON THE SIDEWALK.

The missus asks:
"Is it big enough for you???".

Seriously, she DID. She said that would be her question. She happened to be writing down a couple of notes in my filofax for me as we drove down to play pool and drink beers last night. And Dear God I love that woman, she said that was her question, and she went on to say "my handwriting, is it big enough for you? You never wear your glasses and you canNOT see a thing". Phhbbt. I think she wasted her question.
NEXT:

My buddy Kasey in Iowa writes a question for REAL:
"My question:
What to do with everyone and their concerns over the state of my uterus. I will be getting married in a few months and without realizing it, apparently everyone was worried that I would never get married. I didn't know that everyone was so worried about such a thing. I mean, I wasn't even worried. Now it's happening and facebook is telling me that I need to go on a bridal diet, people are telling me that I should be ashamed that I haven't looked at any bridal magazines, but the BIG PROBLEM is that I'm afraid the baby flood gates are about to burst. I see some cracks in the dam.


I've already gotten a few "hints" by hints I mean my future mother in law pointing to a desk in her basement and telling me it's waiting for grandkids. If I post a picture of my future husband holding a baby I get comments like, "good practice for him?" and things of that nature. I don't want people wondering when or if I'm going to allow my husbands seed to make its way to my eggs. It's really none of their business. How do I tell them it's none of their business without sounding like a total a##hole? I mean, I really don't have a big problem coming off as an azz, but I'd rather not be rude to my future in-laws. Thank you in advance for any guidance. "

Whoa. OK, Kasey, gosh, as a childless dude I have BEEN THERE AND DONE THAT with the old aunties and others wondering where the babies are.

Quick and easy, smart azz response: "OH, but Aunt Sophie, I am already expecting triplets, didn't Scott tell you???" OR

"I'd rather take up smoking than have kids" or even

"We are planning on raising Weimeraners instead"

I don't know why a wedding invitation is an invitation for people to ask about your sex life. GOD! In our case, as it turned out, we were unable to have kids, and the same question haunted us for years. 4 years ago we were buying a house with the help of an awesome realtor whom we adored. As we handed over the monster check, got the keys and said our happy goodbyes, the realtor asked if we planned to settle down and have kids (we had been married already about 15 years) and I said, in shock, not having heard that question in awhile
"But, my wife is almost 50!!!!" and the realtor's reply was
"oh, but they can do amazing things with fertility procedures these days!".
Ooof.

I am not embarrassed we cannot have kids. We tell people "we make art instead" or "we have dogs and cats instead" or even "we tried and nothing ever happened".
Now that we both have a lot of grey up top, we don't get that question much anymore.

OK, but back to you. You want people to shut up and leave you alone. If you don't like them and don't feel you need to be polite, then say "I don't ask you about your sex life or what you do in the toilet, do I?". To be more diplomatic, work on a pat response, because you will get this question all the time. if you are religious or feel like putting up a smoke screen, fake them out with " we'll see if God gives us a baby" and smile angelically or simply and honestly "we'll see, right now there are a lot of things on our plate, and we have not had time to think of a family" or "heck, we been practicin' day and night, you'd think we have at least a dozen kids so far..."



Gary Edward Rith is a househusband, full-time studio potter and sculptor and part-time instructor at the Cornell University Pot Shop. Confessions of a Kept Man appears every Tuesday and Thursday, and Gary's answer column "He Says: ask a guy, by Gary" appears every Wednesday. Gary blogs a whole lot of pottery and other baloney at his blog
http://garysthirdpotteryblog.blogspot.com/

LEST we forget that I am a potter, dig these mugs: recent experiments, just outta the kiln....




Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Georges Le Soq makin' the tater tot chili....



I am trying to figure out dinner and my rotten French sock monkey Georges Le Soq is nosing around, getting in the way. I am like
"George, I wanted to make chili, but I don't have any peppers" and he is like
"ees OK, dere is de carrots and le corn" and that seems OK to me, but he kinda takes over the project, and later I see him dumping RAVIOLIS into the chili. "Forking brilliant" I tell Georges, and he SNIFFS in that dismissive way the French have, and says "you, how you say, have seen noTING" and he turns on the oven.
I am like, "Goerges, wait, what are you wearing?" and he is like "ees new scarf! Found eet on zee sidewalk down by zat blood on zee sidewalk. Ees yellow, my best color"
Later the kitchen smells great, and he is pulling out the bowls and cheapo jug vino, and Georges is like
"ees zee tater tot chili, ees REVOLUTIONARY"

Dudes in shorts



I have a new venture going on, as I mentioned last week, and it flies today for real, called: She Says, by the ladies (and Gary). Its sort of a SUPER GROUP mega blog, like 20 years ago, the Traveling Wilberries, with Dylan, George Harrison, Tom Petty and the guy with the voice having fun. When the Women's Colony closed last week, a very big super group mega blog, some women decided to keep it going, but like the Bionic Woman, they could make it better. Of different anyway, and include ME as a contributor. I will submit 2 essays a week plus an answer column, woohoo!
I know, I am juggling a lot of sh!t these days, writing this blog, writing for that blog, writing for the BABB blog, facebook for me, facebook for Georges Le Soq....snot much time lately to read your stuff, I am trying to catch up :)

Here is my first real essay for them.

Confessions of a Kept man: diary of an anarcho-punk potter and househusband.

DUDES IN SHORTS

Ithaca, NY is not exactly Canada, but its close. We are not a very tropical place. It snowed all day on Mother's Day, but at least it didn't stick. I am not a shorts guy, at least not anymore. We lived in the New Hampshire woods for many years before Ithaca, a place known as a) colder and snowier than Ithaca, and b) infested with mosquitos and black flies during the warm months. At least our corner of New Hampshire was bug hell, but our new corner of Ithaca is all sunshine and lollypops and puppy dog tails: where are the bugs? I don't care, they must still be in New Hampshire.

Me and the wife had lived for many years in Chicago before moving to northern New England, a place also notable for being pretty darn cold, but also unmercifully hot and humid. Holy cats it was hot. My first summer in Chicago broke records for a) days over 90 degrees and b) days over 100 degrees (and our last winter? broke records for days under zero in a row and in total). Anyway, our Chicago apartment had abundant mosquitos in the neighborhood, but I was, without thinking, a shorts guy. Later in New Hampshire, your legs were covered with bites in seconds and it wasn't terribly hot, so I quickly buried the shorts in the closet and forgot them.

Ithaca got to the high 80s this past weekend, and what with the lack of biting insects and the hot and humid air, it felt like time to find the shorts, which were under the wool sweaters in the closet. I may not need the sweaters this week, but I was glad to pull out my vintage 1988 gap cargo shorts (back in fashion!) on Saturday, and feeling virtuous, I cleaned my closet too. When the wife does closets, blue shirts hang with blue shirts, and tan pants are hung next to tan pants, but my effort was limited to unballing the sweaters and folding them neatly: GOOD ENOUGH. And my hairy and pale legs, as you may see in the photo, enjoyed airing out all day.

You may never theorize about shorts, but sometimes it hits you over the head: what is it about Americans and shorts? You hear your French cousins talking about "those ugly Americans, crowding the Eiffel tower, in their shorts and their baseball caps...". And you are like "Huh? Ugly = shorts?"

You think about it a little further: men love shorts on women, don't they? I mean, all men want is to sneak peeks down a passing woman's top, and heck, the more leg the better, right? Um, yes, right, you know, under the correct circumstances, but NEVER would a happily married man of 18 years, like me, look at a woman's long legs in their shorts, or the way the shorts define their shapely little....no. Not this married man, ever. I wouldn't even look at women's cute little toesies with their pretty bubble gum pink nail polish. Never.

But is there some kind of double standard, or multiple standard? Is it OK for women to wear shorts and not men? I worked with Maureen in Chicago years ago, who, looking at my vintage 1988 gap cargo shorts, told me "my husband NEVER wears shorts" she sniffed "he is NOT a little boy". I was puzzled: am I acting like a little boy? Recently, my good Canadian pal Celeste was telling us all how she and Maurice met: "I was at an exhibition and he kept talking to me, all DAY. For 7 hours! He was totally charming and funny, BUT HE WAS WEARING SHORTS!".
Again, I puzzled it out, because of neccesity or lack of neccesity, I was no longer a shorts man, but is there a feminine prejudice against men in shorts?

I weighed the evidence, although I was too lazy to do any research. The wife here is way too polite to tell me I look foolish in my shorts (do I look foolish in my shorts, rubber boots and Mickey tee???? I was wearing boots because I didn't want to get my shoes wet in the dewy grass). But I think there IS a history of men looking foolish in shorts: the postal carriers in their blue shorts, the old guys in Florida with their shorts, black socks and black dress shoes, and here, of course, in Ithaca, your 66 year old hippies in their shorts with Birkenstocks, showing their nasty toenails to the world (puts you off your lunch, you know?).

But weigh those horrible images against the facts of my youth: Tom Selleck as Magnum PI on TV. I mean, Magnum had the curly dark hair like mine, he had the flowered shirts, he had the Ferrari, he had the huge 'stache, he had the hairy legs like mine, he had the shorts. EVERY week he had the shorts. And consider this summer: The World Cup. You see these handsome, athletic guys running around in their shorts, you KNOW IN YOUR HEART SHORTS ARE OK on men.

Gary Edward Rith is a househusband, full-time studio potter and sculptor and part-time instructor at the Cornell University Pot Shop. Confessions of a Kept Man appears every Tuesday and Thursday, and Gary's answer column "He Says: ask a guy, by Gary" appears every Monday. Gary blogs a whole lot of pottery and other baloney at his blog
http://garysthirdpotteryblog.blogspot.com/

Monday, June 21, 2010

today she did NOT kick my azz...



The wife is like "I need to do some errands after work. I need to go to (the jewelry store I like) and (the sewing store that I HATE) and (the shoe joint that I like a lot) and (the clothing store that I HATEHATEHATE! I SPIT ON THAT STORE!)."
And I respond, being the helpful and loving husband that I am,
"why certainly darling, I will pick you at 4:30, I will run around doing your bidding, and then you can take me to the Chapterhouse for the beers and popcorn" and she is an excellent gal, and is totally on board with the plan.
The wife, as you see above, works at Cornell University, in a department that, to put it one way, as the wife tells me today:
"today? The only mail we got was some loopy guy's theory about the PYRAMIDS. He spent OVER a dollar to mail it to us. He didn't even proofread his own name and address on the envelope...".
As you can see above, it has that IVY LEAGUE look, because Cornell IS, actually, Ivy League. The wife has a joe job there. We love it all, and campus is right next to the Chapterhouse. Pretty convenient, locating campus by my favorite bar.

ANYWAY, on our honeymoon in 1993 we stayed at a castle in Maine on the ocean, probably the only vacation we have ever taken (really!). You heard that right, WE STAYED IN A CASTLE ON THE OCEAN. I am not kidding when I say it was living the board game CLUE: there was a library, billiards room, etc. You could hang out in the library from 4-6 and suck up all the expensive wine and hors de oevers (how do you spell that?) your belly could handle. Frankly, we didn't need any dinner after that.
It was our habit to grab a glass at 4 or 5 and go down and play pool for an hour. The wife kicked my azz every time (I should have known, she had kicked my azz at pool the whole time we dated too). Then we would wander upstairs for the hors de things and chat with the other guests. There was this charming but HORRIBLE republican type couple staying there too. They tried to, I swear I am not making this up, recruit us for the KKK or one of those sort of hate groups. Really! And the woman in this couple is like "dear, I hope you let your new husband win at pool every time".
The wife fixes the beyotch with this look and says "he has NEVER beaten me at pool".

OK, that was then, this is now.
I grab the popcorn and the pint this evening, 4 quarters in hand, and I am like
"foosball? .....or pool (shaking in my boots, I AM SCARED TO PLAY POOL AGAINST MY WIFE)" and she is like
"rack 'em up".

Let's just say she had a bad outing. A very bad game. REALLY BAD.

:)



ribbit :)


(covered jar by Gary Rith)
Or do you spell it ribbet????

post father's day blues....


Thursday, pre-party, Tommy is like "make your triple chocolate cookies for Saturday night's party at Judy's" and I DO, despite, the high heat and humidity, and dang, whaddya know, Tommy was a no-show. There were a lot of OTHER people at that party, and they cleaned the plate up pretty quick. But we left a few of the ugly ducklings at home for our personal use....
Dang, I have a show for July at Belle Melange, you KNOW I wasn't resting on father's day....had to scrub the kitchen and bathroom, too, actually---father's day or not, you GOTTA CLEAN. We have decided to pretend that we are reforming hoarders (we are NOT, but its an exercise) or that we are moving, and are trying to clean and get rid of all of our extra crapola. Spring cleaning.



YES. Yes, Spike is a very big cat. Hard for the missus to contain. An armload.
The wife does not often have to cook, (I don't let her into my kitchen now, do I?) but she makes this devilish spicy pizza, and she and Penny made me some for father's day.....

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Father's Day = FREE POST IT NOTES



This morning we are chowing down on the cream of wheat with blueberries and you know, the French roast in the robot mug, and the wife is like
"Omygod, its FATHER'S DAY!" and she asks "you gonna be here another minute?" and I hold up my bowl: 3 spoonfuls left, 3 sips of French roast. She dashes off and hands me this little blue gift **
I am like "????!!!! OH BOY!!!!" and she is like
"I hope you like it. The cats and the dogs worked with me to give you something nice for father's day" and I open it, with total pleasure as you see below, and discover a FREE PEN from Staples and various advertising post it notes from a vendor fair she went to last week. Free post it notes for Father's day, they love and appreciate me so much....



Judy decided to have a big wing ding potter's party for all of us Cornell potters. I know, HIDE THE CRYSTAL GLASSWARE and fine china and lock up your daughters, potter's partying!!! Here is the missus with with my badazz pals Leslie and Carol, whom you will remember from many a Friday happy hour post...


The wife is like "I want to go downtown shopping Saturday, will ya give me a ride?" and I am like, "shopping is worse than scrubbing venetian blinds, NO WAY! Unless we can get the tacos and burritos at Viva..."


I am opening a show July 2 5-8 at the Belle Melange Gallery, 210 West State St, Ithaca, NY and went over to turn over some ideas with Lisa and Mary...golly its a pretty gallery, these folks are so nice, I hope you can come to the party...


**there was also a GET FUZZY book and TWO bottles of bourbon under the father's day tree, they DO love me so :)

Saturday, June 19, 2010

"I'm more..."


"I'm more than good looks and a big paycheck, you know..." sez the wife. Thanks for the photo of the wife Stevo, AWESOME :)

so THAT was Friday.....


So, you know: typical bad behavior at the weekly Friday afternoon Chapterhouse happy hour.... Spike and Penny say they look cute in the sunshine....
Tommy, Judy and Stevo joined me and the wife for the beers and popcorn and gossiped about YOU (we really did)

The Friday afternoon happy hour thing started because some of us potters at the Cornell University Pot Shop, well, ME as everyone points out, would work in the studio then slide down the hill, dragging as many others down with me...like Tommy here....


Earlier Friday I was up at the Aurora Art and Design Center, reloading the shelves, dang that gallery is SLICK----although there was this yuppie idiot tourist who was waving some merchandise at me while I was decorating my shelves
"HOW MUCH do these cost? Do they have any sayings inside???"
and I politely responded I did not work there, ask at the desk, and she just kept staring at me, like I should come over to her, and then she FINALLY takes out her damn ear buds....and again she waves the merchandise at me
"what is the price on these is there anything written inside???" and I AGAIN politely say I do not work there, please ask at the desk and go fork yourself"
No. Did not say that last bit.
Sadly, Nance's gallery closes shop this month. She is on to bigger things, but I adore Nance and her family and have loved being involved in her gallery for 4 years......THANK YOU!

Me and Missus Tastycakes

Me and Missus Tastycakes

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I am a part-time pottery instructor at Cornell University Pot Shop and a full-time studio potter and sculptor, married to superhawt Missus Tastycake.