Joss Whedon calls it quits for TV, for now. There were no shows in the hopper anyway, but people were hoping for some “Buffy” or “Angel” TV movies. Now that probably won’t happen.

Maybe he’ll come back to TV at some point.

*sniffle*

The New Yorker, for the first time in its nearly 80-year history, has endorsed a presidential candidate. John Kerry, of course. Like the New York Times endorsement, this one is largely an indictment of the Bush administration; the section about Kerry seems an afterthought, only 667 out of 4,523 words, or about 15 percent.

The Washington Post has endorsed Kerry as well. And thankfully, nearly half the editorial is about Kerry. The Des Moines Register also endorses Kerry, and it’s pretty much all about Kerry, refreshingly.

I had a blast this weekend. I went to upstate New York with my chorus for a retreat. (Matt’s in the chorus, too, but unfortunately he was on call at the New School and also wasn’t feeling well, so he didn’t go.) I sang a lot, I drank a lot, I bonded with my fellow chorus members. It was a blast.

It was helped by the beautiful scenery, quintessentially fall. The trees were ablaze with color — reds, oranges, and yellows, brighter than I’d seen in ages. Stunning.

We spent about six hours rehearsing, but the rest of the time was free. A group of us went for a walk in the autumnal woods. I tried, and failed, to skip rocks across a lake. On Saturday night after our final rehearsal, five of us went over to a nearby lodge, which was very resonant inside, and created harmonics out of the overtones of our voices. It sounded so ethereal, like a spaceship landing above us. So fucking cool. (For more about harmonic singing, go here and scroll halfway down to “What is harmonic singing?”)

The big finale was later on Saturday night. We had a bonfire in back of our lodge. ‘Smores, more alcohol. What is it about a bonfire that brings people together? There’s something so primeval about it.

I got drunker than I’d been in a long time, and I had the hangover yesterday morning to pay for it. When I got back to Matt’s place in the afternoon, we got some lunch, and then I took a three-hour nap.

Again, it was a blast. It reminded me of some of my best times with the Virginia Glee Club, except for the whole gay thing. But there’s nothing like bonding with your fellow brothers-in-song, gay or otherwise.

Still, you’ve never watched “All About Eve” until you’ve watched it in a roomful of gay men.

I’m so glad I found this chorus. I can’t wait to do another retreat next year.