Howie & Joey: Can This Bearriage Be Saved?

It always starts with something small, doesn't it, possums?

On last week's episode, we thrilled when Sara Mair wanted to buy tricolor fusilli for the Bertolli challenge, and Howie had a mini (queeny) meltdown about how it was the "cheesiest, corniest" pasta that you would see "on buffet tables" in "every schlock house" in the country. Meow!

So what did Howie's Bear life-partner, Joey, insist on for his team? Why, tricolor fusilli, of course. That's when we knew this bearriage was in trouble.

(Naturally, Joey's teammate, Hung, wanted penne (yes, there's a cheap and easy bisexual joke in there about how "pene" is Italian for "penis," and yes, "penne" means "feathers," and let's not forget pájaros and The Birdcage, but we're too lazy to flesh it out).

Oh, and while we're at it, we were disheartened that italianissimo Joey couldn't even pronounce orecchiete, which he rendered as "oh-reh-CLEH-tee." Tsk, tsk, Giuseppe.

And since we're digressing, we must mention Miss XaXa's chortle when she heard 5'6" Howie saying, "It's a no-brainer for me that shrimp is the way to go, because everybody loves shrimp." Well, at least we know Joey does.)

We shuddered as we imagined the scenes that would take place when Howie & Joey invited Andrew & Aaron and Rob & Peter and Tom & Tony for Sunday brunch at their place and Joey insisted on serving pasta salad made with tricolor fusilli. Possums, the Fiesta Ware (Joey's, of course) would fly. And that would be part of the argument, too, Fiesta Ware vs. simple, sober plates from Armani Casa. Oh, and the doilies Joey would insist on for the couches ("But Howie, Pooh Bear, we can't have you sweatin' into the velour")! And Joey wanting to stay home and watch Beaches one more time while Howie wanted to go out and see The Bourne Ultimatum, or stay home but watch UFC death matches. It's too, too tragic to contemplate.

Has it really come to an end?

Our pals Doug and Maddy at the Miami Herald's Top Chef blog bring us the scoop. Maddy, who interviewed Joey, found him in a heartbreaking condition, "drinking a Gatorade and smoking a Newport." So that's what grief tastes like, Gatorade and Newports--why didn't The English Patient tell us this?

Maddy then discovered that Joey and Howie have not spoken at all and Joey asked for Howie's email address. Indeed, Joey, who lives in New York, didn't even know that Howie was in New York too! The outrage! Howie, of course, was consorting with Alfred Portale, the man Joey himself likened to Michelangelo, and we all know about Michelangelo, don't we?















Is it any wonder that, as Maddy reports, Joey may be turning into one of the Ungay?

First, Joey suggests, he may have tried sexually harassing Padma Lakshmi: "Padma is Padma. She is beautiful. And I said that on a few occasions. I'm not afraid to speak my mind. That's me - I'm very open. If you hold back, you're gonna tear your insides apart."

And now? The coup de grâce! "I just started dating a wonderful girl. She's in the insurance business." Madonna, ma come mai?!

First of all, this proves, if proof were needed, that straight women have lower, or at least different, standards than the Gays. Secondly, insurance business? Aren't these people supposed to know about risks?

But wait. Hope is not entirely lost. Joey "still ha[s]n't opened that bottle of red that Howie got from Maria Frumkin for winning the elimination challenge."















He hasn't opened the bottle. Doesn't that tell you everything, possums? It's as if that bottle held not delightfully rotten Argentinean grapes, but a message, a liquid billet doux. Insurance girls, Alfred Portale and Padma Lakshmi be damned. We still believe in love.

Tom Colicchio Forced to Bear the Male Gays; Andrew Sullivan and Laura Mulvey to Be Held Accountable

Well, possums, as no doubt he's been often told, Andrew Sullivan has a lot to answer for.

The National Post, a Canadian newspaper, makes the self-described bear and "conservative" gay columnist responsible for giving bears "an aura of credibility and ma[king] them feel a little less marginal." (Heck, we'll even go so far as to blame him for the appearance of bear porn on Conan O'Brien.)

And last week's edition of "Watch What Happens" certainly proves the increasingly mainstream aspect of being a bear, as a visibly mortified Tom Colicchio was informed by a viewer from Guerneville, California--though we can hardly believe it was the first time--that he is "an icon in the bear community."

(This is the equivalent of being told by a resident of Amsterdam that you are an icon of legalized pot and prostitution; in other words, they know from bears in Guerneville.) Not that we're surprised; we've been calling Tom Colicchio a bear for a long time.

There was knowing laughter in the studio after the question, and no laughter more knowing than that of Ilan Hall. So Ilan knows the definition of a heretofore marginalized segment of the gay community? Well, color us and Lalalina gobsmacked.

Despite showing umpteen inches' worth of Tom Selleck-lite chest hair, and despite being the New York-resident, Sarah Jessica Parker-befriendin', Hairspray-watchin', Madonna-lovin', Diana Ross-worshippin', Kathy Griffin-greenlightin' cheerleader of the gayest network on television, Bravo VP Raggaydy Andy Cohen, sporting an expression that said, "Bear? Qu'est-ce que c'est?" turned it over to Ted Allen, much as President Bush might turn to dominatrix-boot-wearing Condolezzie Rice and say, "Hey, Condi, this here question's about Eye-ran and nukular disarmament, so why dontcha take it."

Ted Allen's natural modesty and low-key charm gave way almost to maiden-aunt frisson in his role as Secretary of State the Obvious, as in "My understanding of the bear community, which is extremely limited." Goodness gracious, as if one might call him Goldilocks if his understanding of bears were anything but extremely limited. Why so afraid of the bears, Bravo queer guys? Your honeypots are undoubtedly safe.

Ted did go on to define bears as "gay men who appreciate…muscular, strong, really masculine, burly men. So apparently, the burly gay men of America find you delicious, Tom." (Just one thing: except for the burly part--gay men being by and large horribly vicious body fascists--Ted's definition would seem to make every gay man in America, and Hung Huynh, a bear.)

Judging by Tom's giggly, uncomfortable reaction, maybe Colicchio's the bear they're all afraid of. We found it particularly delicious, if that's the term, that on a show so heavily based on objectifying Padma Lakshmi, the male gaze should have turned the tables and its red-hot rays on Colicchio himself. Is it any wonder Tom was voted the sexiest judge by the viewers, beating both Padma and that Tit-anic Iceberg, Gail Simmons? (That's not meant as a slam against Gail; we are huge fans of buxom women with a touch of frost.) In other words, the audience for Top Chef must include an awful lot of women and gays.

Now, let's flesh out, as it were, Ted Allen's definition. The Los Angeles Times defines bears as "burly guys who identify with a masculine style and who shun the popular image of homosexual guys as smooth, hairless, Calvin-Klein-ish blond young men," and records the Linnaean ingenuity of the homosexualist when it comes to men:

"Thin bears are called 'otters.' Younger guys are 'cubs,' East Asian guys are 'panda bears,' and gray-haired gents are 'polar bears.' For aficionados of the bear physique, the ideal male body is that of Tony Soprano (especially in the show's recent seasons, when the mob boss puts on weight)."

The National Post adds that: "A Wolf is simply a more aggressive version of an Otter. As for a Chaser, he's a guy who definitely isn't a Bear, but loves Bears."

And so with that handy taxonomy in our back pocket, let us take a look at Top Chef.

Why, the set of "Watch What Happens" was o'errun with bears. In addition to daddy bear Tom, there were Big Gay Dave from Season 1, aka Peroxide Bear, Cry-Bear, or Care(Too Much) Bear, and Michael "Beer Bong" Midgley ("Bear Bong"?) from Season 2. Ilan and Raggaydy Andy (Jews with chest hair! Who knew?) could at least qualify as otters.

Season 3 has Joey Paulino aka Joey Pickles the Eyetalian Tantrum-Throwing Bear™, Howie Kleinberg (Sweaty Bear), and Dale Levitski (he of the tantalizingly shiver-inducing "caveman hands," who claims not to have gotten the gay shopping gene). And let's not forget Norman Van Aken.

Season 2 had Frank Terzoli (originally dubbed the Bambino Bear), an older model of the Eyetalian Tantrum-Throwing Bear™ (discontinued after it threatened to beat a Cabbage Patch Doll so severely that its own mother wouldn't recognize the resulting slaw), as well as Bear Bong, Cliff Crooks (whom we dubbed Valrhona Bear oh-so-long-ago), and Lychee Bear Otto Borsich, a gentle breed. In terms of judges, just off the top of our heads, we remember Lee Hefter, Raphael Lunetta, Wylie Dufresne, and Ming Tsai.

So, you see, possums, we think we've made our point. Bravo is Lipton, and train wrecks, and bears, oh my!

Allora, Tommy, just accept the fact that you're a great, big hunk of bear meat. And don't worry. After all, like lobster, bear meat is supposed to be very low in cholesterol.

My Doppelgänger, Myself: Brave Howie Kleinberg Reveals His Ontological Crisis on the "Top Chef" Set

Sure, possums, both these men are red, gruff, overweight, temperamental, insecure, and possessed of regional accents and farcically outmoded notions of masculinity, but if you look closely, there are differences: one is slightly taller and has hair.

These are small details, but they are important, as cheftestant Howie Kleinberg will tell you. He has courageously broken his silence to discuss his painful struggle with a problem that has beset philosophers, Prague-based Jewish novelists, drag queens, science fiction visionaries and gay couples alike: nothing less than the nature of existence. As the bastard love child of Carrie Bradshaw and Jean-Paul Sartre might have put it, Who are we (in fact, are we?) when others can't tell us apart? Or, why do gay couples in long-term relationships always end up looking like twins?

As Howie told the folks at mediaVillage.com, it was thanks to Casey Thompson that his "relationship [with Joey Paulino] ... moved on to a level where we got the BS out of the way." However, "[a]bsolutely Joey and I butt heads,...because we have a lot in common... But we are not the same person." (emphasis added).

And why would it be necessary to stress this? Well, because "many of the contestants would actually confuse the two [Joey and Howie] when talking about one of them."

Take a moment, possums, to ponder the import of this. If people who lived with you for several weeks can't tell you apart from your vociferous Doppelgänger, what hope is there for you? When things have reached that point, when your life has turned into a paella whipped up by Philip K. Dick and Andrew Sullivan, it's time to abandon the leather bars and beer busts, and move to the suburbs with a pair of chocolate Labs, therein to restore a crumbling Victorian and hold barbecues for the other sets of burly twins.

Amuse-Biatch Now Pronounces Them Howie & Joey

It seems to us, possums, that rarely has one of Bravo's cross-promotional ideas worked out so well.

All night long, Bravo has been showing film clips and Jessica Biel's rack to promote the new flick I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry, which--would you believe it?!--is being released by Universal, as in NBC Universal, corporate parent of wayward, gay corporate child Bravo. That's putting the sin in synergy.

In the film, Kevin James (finally living up to his billing as the King of Queens) and Adam Sandler play two rough-and-tumble, average-Joe firefighters who pretend to be domestic partners in order to get benefits, so right away you know this is a fairy tale, in more ways than one, because, naturally, everywhere in this great nation of ours the Gays in their domestic partnerships get more benefits than straight married couples.

And what do we have tonight? Why, it's another couple of rough-and-tumble, average-Joe guys with thick accents coming together in a loving partnership. In true telenovela fashion, Joey Pickles and Howie Kleinberg, the two characters who started out bickering, ended up sharing love over a bottle of wine.

But it's more than a marriage of regional accents for the girth & mirth set. Indeed, despite their earlier clashes and savage animal exhortations to "be a fucking man," a cri de coeur and cri de cul that Jean Genet and Andrew Sullivan would have understood all too well, Joey Pickles ("Or is it Joey Gherkins?" Miss XaXa had wondered earlier) and Howie have everything it takes to make it as a successful gay couple: versatility.

First Joey was on top, with an "orgasm in your mouth" (hey, it's ok to do that if you're domestic partners), and then Howie was on top, doing what he likes to do best: pork. If that ain't beautiful versatility, we don't know what is. As Harold Dieterle put it on his blog (and Harold knows from loud, burly gays, having roomed with Big Gay Dave during Season One): "There was huge love and a lot of man-hugging going on."

Mazel tov, you two!