I was going to write this long diatribe about how much I dislike Santorum. To me, the guy seems awful gay. He's just a hateful prick who brings negativity to the political table. Why does Sexuality matter to politicans so much? To get the Tim Tebow vote I suspect. Fuck him and those evangelical lunatics. Once more Joan says it best. Tom

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Five years ago, I was awaken by copious licks from my lovable dog Jack. In that fog between stage four sleep and wide awake - with the dog's tongue jamming at my lips - I had a dream. My imagination was off-kilter but I figured it'd make a funny video. The idea of a tongue supplied by a dog still seems like a better idea than the dog borrowing my licking lips. I made the "SERVICE DOG" banner myself.  The red ink rubbed off, destroying my great yellow shirt.

The woman who appears in the orange suit is Shirley Michell. I had to repeat Lucy's immortal line to Shirley's (Marion's) laugh. You can find Shirley's scene with Lucy's classic response  in this memorable episode. 

Shirley still works today; she started out in radio, from a Mt. Wilson broadcast she was first on TV; today she's doing internet voice overs.  Never retire.

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Last month my (recently) former partner's mother passed away.  She had been living with Alzheimer's etc..  It was "her time."  

Since 2001 we took family cruises together.  I'd pass the cruise time away videotaping and having great fun.

When she passed I decided to take the high road and put together this little "tribute" piece to the better times we all shared.  It certainly was difficult looking at all those wonderful days.  Even though David and I are no more, it does my heart good to know before he lost his mind I made him happy! (just kidding)

Anyway Andy will hate this post because it is sad - but dude, it's not I actually put my moind to this and FINISHED it!   Through my bullsh*t I edited this !!!!   have new-found respect for Andy's editing skills too!

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•  

My Swank New Bachelor Pad

 

Life has a funny way of turning on a dime.
In several of my previous blogs, and by my LACK of recent blogs, it might be evident that 2011 was not my favorite year.  A separation attributed to my partner's "mid-life" crisis started the dominos of emotions falling into confused disarray.  Mornings were like a bad movie, with my eyes popping open at 5AM because my mind was spinning out of control.  My partner's only comfort was "it's me, not you'.  Right.  
Eventually I knew I had to get away.  Last Friday I moved to NYC.  It wasn't a huge upheaval for me, after all my partner and I have an apartment in Manhattan - but I had to get my own. I've found one which I will be moving into in February - two dachshunds and a cat in tow.  Look, it's an upheaval.
Before I left LA Andy and I had a sit-down.  We parted ways. I told him Gregory Way was to be no more. I had lost my mojo.  My partner - who feigned drama throughout our relationship, was causing such drama in my world that I had to close my comedy down.  I told Andy I was exhausted - it was just him and me - no credit-roll of grips and dolly operators, no list of PA's, and AD's - GWTV needed inspiration and i couldn't even get outta bed. So last Friday I clandestinely relocated to The Big Apple.
Things were moving along.  In the rear view mirror of life I could see my dreams get smaller and further away.  In front of my were loyal friends telling me that I should only think of me and that EVENTUALLY things would get better.  Hell, I had heard that eleven years earlier and things had gotten better, I didn't know they had to keep getting better over and over again.  The lessons I'm learning.
Ok, so Thursday morning through bleary eyes, I opened my email to the subconscious mantra of "tell me something good" - usually that means I hear nothing from my former partner; I'm not sure that's good, but i do know that's reality.  But Thursday's emails were different, There were scores of them form you out there, media, and Andy all congratulating me on our Indie Soap noms.  "What the heck….?!"  
I never thought my new life would be fueled by you out there and the vindication by five nominations, but it has.  The seeds I planted in the garden I thought was unnoticed had finally produced fruit. There are people out there watching.  They are liking my passionate work, and the project that I still knew had merit, is being noticed.  My golly, I can't believe it.  

Now Andy and the crew are all flying eastward, GWTV is rolling again,  New episodes will be up by 1Feb.  It's not how I expected 2012 to start, but heck, I never expected anything less than the best I could do.  Thank you fans for reminding me that I was always doing my best, it just took awhile for someone to notice.  As for the relationship, well that's why I named my new dog Buddy - he loves loyally, with a happy lick (instead of a whine) for those who stick by him!

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Fans -

With the New Year my life is changing.   I'm now spending more time in NYC, hoping to connect with some opportunities in the Big Apple.  Gregory Way TV is a great project - we've gotten thousands of hits, but it's gained us no attention  - no agent, no meetings, not a thing.  So I've decided to morph the project more into a blog with video and less episodic entries.   

 

2011 - was a tough year for me - filled with BS and frustration  - Im happy to be moving on.  I hope to find a project that will showcase my writing/comedy/ and huge ego.  Either that or just a nice, peaceful place devoid of sh*t.  I have bought a place in Manhattan - on 54th near 5th - the Rockefeller apartments if you know the town.  My unit is very bachelor-swank as it overlooks the MOMA sculpture gardens.  My dogs and cat are with me as is John at our house here in Southampton.  It's odd spending the winter in a summer town, but John insists he loves it here and will paint all through till March! 

 

Wish me luck.  If any of you New York folks wanna get together with any interesting ideas, send me a response to this blog. I'll see it for sure. 
Thank you for your encouragement and support of GWTV! 
Tom

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Growing up in Southern New Jersey - a child of the first TV generation, I was assaulted by glamorous tales and images of Los Angeles, San Francisco, and the warm, promising, and sun-drenched promised land of the American Southwest.  

Earliest life for me in rapidly declining Camden NJ, was far less than what I saw on The Beverly Hillbillies, The Brady Bunch, The Partridge Family, or even The Waltons.  My father worked hard. Mother worked outside the house maintaining the home,  her sanity, and family's stability while helping Dad drag the American dream to our doorstep.

Eventually we moved a town east to realize the middle class aspiration.  Stress grew as the family worked harder and harder for a bigger piece of the American Pie.  A divorce split the income and nearly doubled the bills.  In spite of their hardships, my parent's search for a better life was their gift to me.  By today's rocky standards, my public school education was extraordinary.  In today's world of poverty level pensions, inflation, and economic recession, the lessons learned from my parents has served me well in subsidizing their current lives.   

I remember at four years of age, after watching an episode of The Flintstones (there were palm trees everywhere in that show) standing at the screen door of our Camden NJ home saying that I wanted to move to California.  Twenty years later on the eve of actual departure, through the tear-stained eyes of a mother sending her son off into the sunset, mom swore to me that at THREE years old I had actually said "I want to move BACK TO California."  "Yep," she sobbed, "I always knew you would leave to follow your dream."   An afternoon later I was westbound in my old 1972 Impala torpedoing toward my optimistic-unknown.  I was certain the beachy, balmy, bougainvillea, tree-lined life the post-war generation had found in Sunny So Cal would become my life too.    

Why couldn't it? I had everything -  I was "free, white and twenty-one' - the simple recipe I learned that contained the elements for unbridled possibilities.  Success for me came in mass contentment. I loved Los Angeles - the weather, the people, the vistas, the sights, and the shadows of music legends I loved:  Janis Joplin, The Mamas and Papas, The Doors, and The Beach Boys.  Everything was lined up for me; my security followed.  Hell, I fight for my security to this day.  For those lucky enough to fall on the right side of the border we even have the world's strongest army to safeguard our dream.  America is a great place.  Just ask a day-laboring Illegal immigrant.

Chris Weitz' latest film A Better Life- is the story of Carlos' (Demián Bichir) fight to survive as an illegal immigrant working in the beating, bleaching Southern California sun.  Through universal dreams and simple aspirations for a better life, Weitz leaves sermonizing about immigrant issues at the door.  Whether we like it or not Weitz forces us to watch a life unfold to reveal the angst behind the quest for the best a man can attain.  Carlos is not a man of words rather a man of staunch integrity. Through the connection of Carlos and his teenaged son, we see the potential erosion of the dream if we give into its inherent easy life.  Unlike my own trek to the West,  Carlos' problems are forced upon him - surviving America proves hard and intangible.  He fights against the law, the language, and social walls of poverty and segregation.  It's a sensitive film that jerks a tear and can change a perspective.  
A well produced film changes attitudes.  Looking back into Hollywood's history,  Susan Hayward in "I Want to Live" melted American's staunch opinion toward the death penalty.  Convicts were no longer faceless below-the-fold headlines devoid of any worthy element.  Hayward brought our justice system of death to its knees - that's the power of film and the mark of an hour and forty-five minutes well spent.

 

A Better Life, may not end the death and heartache of those squeezing into American for a future, but it does tell their story.  Ignorance does not survive in A Better Life, It can't survive in an evolved America.

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Earlier this month at NY's Doyle auction House, they held a fab auction for the few remaining ends from Joan Crawford's 1977 estate.  Anyone who knows anything about me, would know I would attend. The Auction's prize was the Cecil B. DeMille Award that was presented to Joan Crawford for Outstanding Contribution to the entertainment industry 1969.   Guess what? A respectable sum later (including premium) I walked away with Joan's second-most coveted award !! (her Oscar for MILDRED PIERCE was sold back in 93 for 60K - it's since gone into hiding) I'm pleased to be Her Golden Globe's new steward.  Now it rests unassumingly on a shelf in my modest library. I proud to say Joan's work is Hollywood's best. If you don't believe me, Watch RAIN Here NOW Via OVGUIDE.COM!  Check out the scene where Joan says the Lord's Prayer.  Killer stuff. 

Thanks Joan.  Thank you for your contribution to American Cinema. I promise not to let that bitch Tina near the thing! 

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I love my cat; his name is Conrad. I love him. He is perfect. I feel like Clark Gable to his Vivien Leigh. Since 1 June i have had a SHITTY time. My cat is great. Everything will stabilize. it will Tom, it will.

 

GWTV viewers, I thought everyone had seen this, but after it came up at a recent party, I realized I was wrong.  Here it is, again:  and yes, he was successful in Iowa.

 

Zach Wahls, a 19-year-old University of Iowa student spoke about the strength of his family during a public forum on House Joint Resolution 6 in the Iowa House of Representatives. Wahls has two mothers, and came to oppose House Joint Resolution 6 which would end civil unions in Iowa.

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