MY FIRST
          PAIR OF NYLONS

How did I make it through 2013 without them? They're surprisingly sturdy, they haven't ripped or had any runs, they don't wrinkle, and they survived a tug-of-war with my dog Felon without losing shape.They're easily washed and quickly dried, and they can fit into a shoulder bag, backpack, or the smallest purse. Some of the newer patterns even glow in the dark, perfect for crossing streets on those pre-dawn walks of shame. One of my closest friends, Ron Brock, is the one who turned me onto them. Not many people know that he's as into it as he is. He even gave me my first pair from his personal collection.

RON AND I THE NIGHT WE
FIRST MET, 19 YEARS AGO.

I should stop at this point and clarify that I am not talking about a pair of nylon pantyhose. And the walk of shame I'm referring to isn't the one when you walk home with one high heel from a tranny sex party wearing nylons.
The shame I'm talking about is walking stoned from Safeway back to my apartment at 4 A.M. carrying two reusable nylon bags filled with munchies. These are the pair of bags Ron gave me, the same two that happen to have been his favorite ones he always used for his shopping. It was very generous of him considering how serious he is about the whole recycling issue, a fact about him that few people actually know.  

Believe me, I know, I'd rather be telling you about nylon hosiery and tranny sex parties, but that's not what 2014 is going to be about (OK, maybe a little). 2014 is going to be about these nylon bags that have changed my life. Well, my life as far as shopping goes.

NO, THIS IS NOT ME.
MY ASS IS HAIRIER.

The reason why I hadn't switched over to reusable bags sooner is because I hated all the clothe ones I had at home. Each one had odd length handles that didn't feel right in my hand or over my shoulder. Whenever I tried to pack one in my backpack, it would unfold, take up too much space, block everything else I was trying to get to, and would end up smelling like my gym clothes. I know these complaints are all silly and small but together it was enough to keep me from putting any of them into my backpack for the next day.

ONE OF THE NYLON BAGS
WITH THE DRAWSTRING 
AND A CLIP.

When  I told this to Ron a few weeks ago, he immediately went into his kitchen and came back with his fists turned down pointing towards me.
“ I think you're not going to have this problem anymore.” He flipped over his fists and showed me the two tiny nylon bags tightly rolled up in their self-contained, draw-string pouches. He opened one and showed me the size, then rolled it back up into itself.
" Wow, tiny to big, and without Viagra," I smiled, taking one in my hand. 
" They're yours now," Ron said, handing me the second one. "Happy Belated Hanukkah."

We were standing in front of his new recyclable Christmas tree, which was actually the first artificial one he ever had. Ron was known for his Christmas trees (and blow-jobs, so I'm told), so the decision was not an easy one. Choosing a tree that was artificial was a huge leap, but it suddenly made perfect sense to him environmentally and otherwise when he went tree shopping.

THE TWO ORNAMENTS I MADE OF ME DRESSED AS
 THE RABBI  AND THE FLYING NUN
 THAT HANG ON RON'S TREE EVERY YEAR
TRY TO CAPTURE THE RELIGIOUSNESS
OF  CHRISTMAS TIME.

RAB-BI

FLYING NUN

      










 "I think your Christmas tree just snickered when it heard Hanukkah," I said, looking suspiciously at the gorgeous, glowing tree. 

    Ron went over to the tree and pretended to pet it. "There there twinkling tree, don't tease the Jewish people. It's not their fault they got stuck with Hanukkah," he said in perfect Auntie Mame fashion (Rosalind Russel of course) which he did flawlessly, almost as if he was channeling Ms. Russell from beyond. She was his alter ego, especially at Christmas time, when he feels most festive. Ron doesn't have to worry about going overboard with gayness because he can't help but be masculine even when he is at his 'Mamest'. It's like watching the mash-up of Auntie Mame vs.The Marlboro Man. That's what makes his 'Mamish' outbreaks so entertaining. They happen spontaneously, sometimes when they are least expected and most needed. 

Where these Mamish outbreaks come from is a mystery. There must be a place somewhere in Ron Brock's brain that lights up brightly, a part that should be renamed the Mame Medulla. It's where Ron's ability comes from to memorize dialog and then repeat it with perfect intonation. It's a wonderful gift to have, like someone who never forgets a face or name. 
     "Tell your tree it can be recycled early, " I playfully warned. 
     "Don't listen innocent statuesque beauty, " Ron Mame'd, putting his hands on its sides to cover imaginary ears. "This is how those people behave at Christmas time" he paused, "bitter over all the beauty," dropping his voice dramatically low for 'those people' and then quickly raising it back up for Christmas.
   

      REAL LAUGHS ARE VERY HARD TO
CATCH ON CAMERA, BUT LUCKILY
THIS BIG ONE FROM A FEW YEARS BACK
  IS CAPTURED FOR US FOREVER.

Even though it was still mid December, I told Ron that my early New Years Resolution would be to always carry the two nylon bags in my backpack, especially when I go to Safeway. 2014 will mark my jump onto the sustainability bandwagon (only if it's made from at least 40% post-consumer waste), including my overdue divorce from the besieged brown paper grocery bag.

I am happy to report that since I started using the nylon bags three weeks ago, I haven't had to ask one checkout cashier for any Safeway bags. This means I haven't had to pay even one dime in fees from the BAG REDUCTION ORDINANCE, or BRO, passed by San Francisco's Board of Supervisors to stop shoppers like me from 'brown bagging'( putting purchases into brown paper shopping bags instead of reusable ones).

This also means that for three weeks I haven't had to say, 'two double bags please', a simple short sentence which for me has been a stuttering minefield. Around two months ago, the minefield exploded when a cashier who was new at Safeway asked me how many paper bags I wanted. It sent me into a stuttering tail-spin so horrifyingly long that the developmentally-slow Asian boy with low gums and small teeth who was bagging my groceries looked at me like I was retarded. 

The  Board  Of Supervisors  didn't take into account that they were forcing all stuttering shoppers to speak to cashiers more, which for some of us was the the greatest incentive of all to bring reusable bags. Not having to stutter  'two' or 'double' or 'bag' to a cashier  in front of a line of other shoppers is one of the unintended side benefits of my nylon bags. 

My two nylon friends are also bringing a final end to my planetary shame.
In San Francisco, people with reusable bags look at people who don't have reusable bags like non-smokers look at smokers. My environmental recklessness was being tallied up by the number of Safeway paper bags I was carrying. It bothered me that some people thought I didn't give a shit. I'm the guy who told my father at 8 years old not to throw his cigarettes out the car window, and I'm the guy who always finds old wrappers with wadded gum, crinkled unwanted receipts, and bottle caps that I put into my pockets instead of throwing on the ground.

I had lived through PeTA's anti-fur crusade up until my family's used fur business went bankrupt in the late 80's.The last thing I wanted was to be singled out again and 'tomatoed' in front of Safeway by  NOPE(Not One Paperbag Ever) or 'soiled' with dirt balls by TREE( Tree Revenge= Eat Earth).

Frankly, I would have deserved it for the amount of brown paper Safeway grocery bags I paid ten cents each for last year. When I confessed to Ron that I had quite an impressive collection of the paper bags amassed in my kitchen, he wisely pointed out that a lot of shoes or watches is called a collection, not brown shopping bags from Safeway. It can't be called a collection no matter how many I have. Unfortunately, it's one of those things that the more I have, the less impressive it is.  
"It sounds more like a landfill,” Ron said.

We both laughed as we tried to figure out what I could do with all the bags.
"Well how many do you really have?"

“I actually don't have the slightest idea how many. I go to Safeway 5 times a week at least and I always get everything double-bagged,” I shrugged my shoulders. “ There's a lot, believe me. They're crammed into every possible space in between the appliances and the counter tops. And now there starting to come up from behind the refrigerator.”
" Gary, that's bordering on hoarding, or at least pre-hoarding." 
" I call it stockpiling."

" I call it Bag Lady."

When I got home I immediately went into my kitchen and started counting. At 250 I stopped. There were more but it didn't matter. Ron was right.  At that point it was obvious that I had turned into a BLT, a BAG LADY TEMPORARILY.

I had to get rid of them but I didn't want to just throw them out in the recycle bin after keeping them for so long. I had to do something very special with these very plain brown paper bags...

           THE 'SAFEWAY BAGSPREAD'.             

     

I HAD A GOOD SLEEP BUT STILL WOKE UP
WITH TERRIBLE BAGS UNDER MY EYES

FELON, LOOKING LIKE HE WANTS TO
 COME UP AND PEE ON MY BAGSPREAD.

FELON SNIFFED EVERY BAG IN MY BAGSPREAD BY THE TIME HE WAS DONE.

THE BAGS ALSO MAKE VERY STYLISH

CURTAINS THAT CAN BLOCK OUT THE

SUNNIEST DAY.  

FOR THE NIGHTTIME, A PEEPHOLE IS

EASILY MADE IF YOU FEEL YOU NEED 

ONE AS A CONCERNED NEIGHBOR. 

MY EX , ALEX,  WISHING THAT HE WAS THE ONE
IN THE APARTMENT ACROSS THE STREET
 BLINDFOLDED BY TWO NAKED MEN.

The Smithsonian Museum didn't show enough interest in my Grocery Chic Home Decor, and neither did Safeway. If I held onto them until I was 200 hundred years old, they might be worth something considering that paper shopping bags  will eventually be outlawed completely. I had no space to store them,so I tried to take the bagspread and the curtain apart  but all the bags were ruined. I ended up having to throw them all away after all. That's when I realized  I don't have anything to hold my recycles in under my sink and carry them to the bin downstairs. Those Safeway bags were perfect for it.  Is there a black market where I can very discreetly get some?