Rodger was fighting for a solo show, Kenny Alton and I were all for it. “You can’t carry a show by yourself. Either it’s the three of you or no show.” Hank barked at Rodger. All of a sudden Rodger got this Henry Higgins from “My Fair Lady” spirit in him and looked us over like we were sides of beef. “You’ll have to shave” Rodger told Kenny Alton. “I can’t shave! My boyfriend loves the mustache.” Hank told Rodger it would be funny if he did the show with a mustache. “What show?” I chimed in. hank wanted us to perform, but we never performed. Kenny and I had no desire to be on stage, much less be on stage in a dress! I told Hank the woman in my family weren’t pretty hoping this would dissuade us from having to do this. He wasn’t having any of it. Hank took Rodger to the office to discuss the details and Kenny Alton and I went to Sammy’s bar, the big bar downstairs, to drink our problem away.
Wrong person to drown your troubles with before Kenny Alton and I could get our shots half the bar knew of our dilemma. Kenny Casper came over to congratulate us, on what? The ruins of our reputation! “You reputation could use a little scandal lil Miss Sunshine.” Sammy snickered at me. Kenny Casper wanted to know what songs we were doing. Kenny Alton and I just looked at each other. We had no idea what we were doing, or even if we were doing it. “Well, Mary find out! No one wants to watch a queen who doesn’t know the words to their song.” “We’re not queens; we are men being forced to do something we don’t want to do.” Kenny Alton snapped back at Kenny Casper. “That’s it I am not doing this.” I was determined to tell Hank off and get control of my life again! Until Sammy reminded me that the last person to say no to Hank got 86’ed. “Say good-bye to Johnny Angel now.”
Good-bye to Johnny Angel, how could I do that? I actually never got to say hello yet, never mind good-bye. Why does life have to be so complicated!
Kenny Alton and I went through the pros and cons. One pro was making Hank happy and free drinks, con was our reputations. Pro -no one knew who we were so we really didn’t have a reputation, con – people looked down at guys who wore dresses. Pro- Free drinks, con- we were men in dresses. After finishing our shots Hank came over to the bar with Rodger. “We’re going to have a patriotic theme night” hank informed us. “I have a large selection of the Andrew Sister’s songs at my place.” Rodger added. “Who are the Andrew Sisters?” Kenny and I wondered. “I have a thousand of their songs running through my head. I have to go home and put some songs together for us to learn.” Rodger stated as he started to exit. “God Bless America! ”sarcastic Sammy snorted. ““That gives me an idea” Hank was on a roll and added Sammy into the show as Kate Smith singing “God Bless America”.
Before Rodger left he gave Kenny Alton and me his phone number. “We can get together tomorrow and put together the show at my place. I’ll make lunch for us. We can also try on some outfits to wear. We might have to go to some drag shopping.” Drag shopping-my vocabulary was about to change and expand and I am not sure it was for the better.
Sammy, Kenny Casper, Rodger, Kenny Alton and I were all together and that image is frozen in my mind. The five of us had just paid the price for the ride of our lives.
Till Tomorrow Be Kind.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Featherette's
The Featherette’s
While I was sleeping on dryers down the shore swearing there was a future for me, Hank was putting together a Chinese night at the bar. Randy the Star Dee-Jay, at the time, was dying to perform in drag as a Chinese girl. Hank wasn’t sure it would go over so he had two other drag performers placed in the audience. Now a key note here, Hank hated guys who dressed in woman’s clothes. He never allowed transvestites in the bar. He wanted Feathers to be a man’s bar and had no time for freaks that would bring Feathers reputation down. .. His views, not mine. Anyway, Hank had these two club performers Rodger and Gary come as Ma-ma and Eunice Characters from “The Carol Burnett Show”. The two of them were “B” performers and were regulars in other clubs, but never had the chance to break onto the Feathers stage. The opportunity Hank gave them that night was like getting the golden ticket to Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, and they knew it. So while Randy Lu performed his Chinese act it was interrupted by Ma-ma and Eunice. From what I hear they stole the show and Hank’s little show biz brain started to turn.
Rodger was a performer who lived for an audience. He was a hair dresser who had a voice like a cartoon character, very high and nasal…I should talk about voices…Anyway; Feathers had a policy of only allowing their performers to perform in the club. The shows were exclusive and the performers could only perform at Feathers in Jersey. I think Kevin performed in others, but he was the exception.
Gary Dee, who performed Ma-Ma to Rodgers Eunice, was a Joan Rivers impersonator and a Bette Midler. He was too close to Jimmy Lane so Hank kept Gary away from his stage. Gary, meanwhile, performed successfully at the other clubs in the area. Rodger and Gary were room-mates, then when Gary moved out Chris, John’s Best Friend, moved in with Rodger. Obviously I had to become friends with Rodger so I could visit and see Chris and have Chris invite Johnny over so that Johnny could see me out-side the bar and fall in love. Oh, I used to get so exhausted thinking back in those days. I always forgot to get depressed because I was always thinking of the next plan to trap Johnny.
I found this all out from Gerry who used to collect the money at the door, remember I stamped hands. We laughed at Randy in drag and could not believe he would risk his reputation. Back then if you dressed as a girl you were looked down on and you knew it. No one wanted to know guys who wore dresses.
All the drag queens had the same stories for being alone. They were too busy to have a boyfriend, they liked being alone, they haven’t met the right person. I felt bad for them, they were confused and lonely. I didn’t understand them, and they weren’t a part of my life. John-Johnny was and that was the best part of my night. I had to meet this Rodger person.
Kenny Alton was the waiter that Saturday night and we were doing our shot for shot. Rodger had come in and asked to see Hank. Kenny Alton went to get him. Gerry introduced me to Rodger and my mind went to work. I was charming and told Rodger how I heard he was a hit and congrats! “It must be wonderful to be a star!” I ended our conversation as Hank had come to talk to Rodger. It seems Hank had approached Rodger about doing a third of July show. It was a special Tuesday and Jimmy Lane was going to be out of town. Rodger was explaining to Hank how Gary was not available to co-star with him in the show and everyone he knew was booked. I went to excuse myself so I could do shots with Kenny Alton. I didn’t get very far before Hank grabbed me and told Rodger that I could co-star with him. ME!!!!
Kenny Alton spit his shot laughing when I grabbed him and said I could never do it with out him.
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
And try forgetting to be depressed
While I was sleeping on dryers down the shore swearing there was a future for me, Hank was putting together a Chinese night at the bar. Randy the Star Dee-Jay, at the time, was dying to perform in drag as a Chinese girl. Hank wasn’t sure it would go over so he had two other drag performers placed in the audience. Now a key note here, Hank hated guys who dressed in woman’s clothes. He never allowed transvestites in the bar. He wanted Feathers to be a man’s bar and had no time for freaks that would bring Feathers reputation down. .. His views, not mine. Anyway, Hank had these two club performers Rodger and Gary come as Ma-ma and Eunice Characters from “The Carol Burnett Show”. The two of them were “B” performers and were regulars in other clubs, but never had the chance to break onto the Feathers stage. The opportunity Hank gave them that night was like getting the golden ticket to Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, and they knew it. So while Randy Lu performed his Chinese act it was interrupted by Ma-ma and Eunice. From what I hear they stole the show and Hank’s little show biz brain started to turn.
Rodger was a performer who lived for an audience. He was a hair dresser who had a voice like a cartoon character, very high and nasal…I should talk about voices…Anyway; Feathers had a policy of only allowing their performers to perform in the club. The shows were exclusive and the performers could only perform at Feathers in Jersey. I think Kevin performed in others, but he was the exception.
Gary Dee, who performed Ma-Ma to Rodgers Eunice, was a Joan Rivers impersonator and a Bette Midler. He was too close to Jimmy Lane so Hank kept Gary away from his stage. Gary, meanwhile, performed successfully at the other clubs in the area. Rodger and Gary were room-mates, then when Gary moved out Chris, John’s Best Friend, moved in with Rodger. Obviously I had to become friends with Rodger so I could visit and see Chris and have Chris invite Johnny over so that Johnny could see me out-side the bar and fall in love. Oh, I used to get so exhausted thinking back in those days. I always forgot to get depressed because I was always thinking of the next plan to trap Johnny.
I found this all out from Gerry who used to collect the money at the door, remember I stamped hands. We laughed at Randy in drag and could not believe he would risk his reputation. Back then if you dressed as a girl you were looked down on and you knew it. No one wanted to know guys who wore dresses.
All the drag queens had the same stories for being alone. They were too busy to have a boyfriend, they liked being alone, they haven’t met the right person. I felt bad for them, they were confused and lonely. I didn’t understand them, and they weren’t a part of my life. John-Johnny was and that was the best part of my night. I had to meet this Rodger person.
Kenny Alton was the waiter that Saturday night and we were doing our shot for shot. Rodger had come in and asked to see Hank. Kenny Alton went to get him. Gerry introduced me to Rodger and my mind went to work. I was charming and told Rodger how I heard he was a hit and congrats! “It must be wonderful to be a star!” I ended our conversation as Hank had come to talk to Rodger. It seems Hank had approached Rodger about doing a third of July show. It was a special Tuesday and Jimmy Lane was going to be out of town. Rodger was explaining to Hank how Gary was not available to co-star with him in the show and everyone he knew was booked. I went to excuse myself so I could do shots with Kenny Alton. I didn’t get very far before Hank grabbed me and told Rodger that I could co-star with him. ME!!!!
Kenny Alton spit his shot laughing when I grabbed him and said I could never do it with out him.
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
And try forgetting to be depressed
Friday, January 29, 2010
dates 2
Randy always sat at my bar and wouldn’t leave the whole night. Even after I got off duty he would stay and watch me leave. After months of begging me to go out to dinner with him, I agreed. Should I have been surprised to find out he was four foot seven inches. I was okay with it, surprised but okay with it. When he asked the waiter for a phone book because he couldn’t reach the salt in the middle of the table, I was still okay with it. When he told me I was insensitive for ordering shrimp cocktail as an appetizer, I understood why he thought that and assured him that it was an insensitive, but unintentional action. (Not that it stopped him from eating two of the three shrimp that I received.) My breaking point came when I asked a simple question, one that everyone asks someone they are having dinner with, “What do you do for a living?”
I spit out my wine when he replied that he tested horse piss at the racetrack for drugs. “See, I stand there and wait for them to piss and stick a pole in it for samples. Sometimes it takes them a long time to piss, but I get paid by the hour. I just hate when they shit before they piss. Ever smell horse crap? I’m used to it by now, but in the beginning I would just throw up right there, on the spot.”
The glass of wine turned into a double Absolut, straight up. Needless to say, we skipped dessert and headed to the bar. Whenever I have a bad date I go to the bar and try to lose them there. For a midget he had staying power. No matter how many times I tried to lose him, he just clung to my leg and went with me. Like gum on the bottom of my shoe, he would not get off me. He was so proud to have a date with a bartender.
Of course his friends looked like a who’s who of who to avoid in a bar. The guy who only drinks tap water, the guy who never tips-but wants strong drinks! Finally I had to tell him that he was just too good for me and deserved better. He agreed!
He asked for a goodnight kiss and risking a back cramp, I gave him one. As my little date got lost in the crowd, which wasn’t hard, I realized that I got what I always wanted—a fairy tale date. I was Snow White and he was my dwarf.
Morgan took me to a Broadway opening in the rain, should I have been surprised to find that the usher was his ex? After we were seated he explained that he had “issues” he had to clear up with his ex. By intermission they were lip-locked; by the end of the play they were going to give it one more try. Morgan gave me a hug and said, “I knew you would understand…” and “could you leave me the umbrella” and I did! As I stood, drenched, on the platform of the “A” train I got the feeling that this wasn’t what love was suppose to be about.
Woody had a plastic leg and would snap it off to show people at the bar how easily it came off. Mike’s idea of foreplay was farting the Star Spangle Banner and impressed himself when he didn’t stain the sheets, Don asked if his ex could watch us have sex. Pete had four personalities and would order each of them a drink at the bar. Mark likes to jerk off in public elevators. I drop him a letter every now and then in the state jail surveillance cameras. Tommy’s good-night kiss would include me doing him a favor, buying his wife and kids Christmas presents, birthday presents and “Just because” presents. I could go on for pages, but why bother.
Why are the worst dates the most memorable?
That is when “My Johnny Angel” entered my life! Oh, the fantasy of my life! Johnny Angel was the spitting image of a young Michael Landon, my grandmother’s favorite actor. I swore she sent him to me. I became obsessed with him. Obsessed in a nice way, not the psychotic way. Although I did hand sew a sequin Christmas stocking for him. But, I never followed him or stalked him. If fact, if he was in the bathroom I would run out—usually into the door. If he spoke to me, I’d get so nervous I’d have to run into the bathroom and throw up. If he didn’t come into the bar, I’d stand around like a widow in mourning and if he did show up I’d run around avoiding him. He got the nickname “Johnny Angel” because everyone knew I liked him, except him. My love for him went on for years. It took two years, but I found my courage to let him know how I felt about him. When I told him how I felt he informed me that I was too faggy for him and that there were many people he would be impressed by, but I wasn’t one of them. So much for grandma sending me a replacement love.
When I lost my friend Kenny to AIDS I realized that I put so much energy into these men that I didn’t appreciate the shoulder he always provided for my tears. Maybe you’re not supposed to replace the love that you lose, maybe you’re suppose to learn from it. Dreaming of Johnny Angel kept me safe from sleeping around. While everyone else was sweating the results from blood tests, I had no fear because the men I wanted didn’t want me. One of the last things Kenny said to me was how lucky I was, and I was lucky. I never realized that in a “straight acting gay lifestyle”, choosing the wrong men saved my life and picking a “faggy acting” friend enhanced it.
till tomorrow...be kind
I spit out my wine when he replied that he tested horse piss at the racetrack for drugs. “See, I stand there and wait for them to piss and stick a pole in it for samples. Sometimes it takes them a long time to piss, but I get paid by the hour. I just hate when they shit before they piss. Ever smell horse crap? I’m used to it by now, but in the beginning I would just throw up right there, on the spot.”
The glass of wine turned into a double Absolut, straight up. Needless to say, we skipped dessert and headed to the bar. Whenever I have a bad date I go to the bar and try to lose them there. For a midget he had staying power. No matter how many times I tried to lose him, he just clung to my leg and went with me. Like gum on the bottom of my shoe, he would not get off me. He was so proud to have a date with a bartender.
Of course his friends looked like a who’s who of who to avoid in a bar. The guy who only drinks tap water, the guy who never tips-but wants strong drinks! Finally I had to tell him that he was just too good for me and deserved better. He agreed!
He asked for a goodnight kiss and risking a back cramp, I gave him one. As my little date got lost in the crowd, which wasn’t hard, I realized that I got what I always wanted—a fairy tale date. I was Snow White and he was my dwarf.
Morgan took me to a Broadway opening in the rain, should I have been surprised to find that the usher was his ex? After we were seated he explained that he had “issues” he had to clear up with his ex. By intermission they were lip-locked; by the end of the play they were going to give it one more try. Morgan gave me a hug and said, “I knew you would understand…” and “could you leave me the umbrella” and I did! As I stood, drenched, on the platform of the “A” train I got the feeling that this wasn’t what love was suppose to be about.
Woody had a plastic leg and would snap it off to show people at the bar how easily it came off. Mike’s idea of foreplay was farting the Star Spangle Banner and impressed himself when he didn’t stain the sheets, Don asked if his ex could watch us have sex. Pete had four personalities and would order each of them a drink at the bar. Mark likes to jerk off in public elevators. I drop him a letter every now and then in the state jail surveillance cameras. Tommy’s good-night kiss would include me doing him a favor, buying his wife and kids Christmas presents, birthday presents and “Just because” presents. I could go on for pages, but why bother.
Why are the worst dates the most memorable?
That is when “My Johnny Angel” entered my life! Oh, the fantasy of my life! Johnny Angel was the spitting image of a young Michael Landon, my grandmother’s favorite actor. I swore she sent him to me. I became obsessed with him. Obsessed in a nice way, not the psychotic way. Although I did hand sew a sequin Christmas stocking for him. But, I never followed him or stalked him. If fact, if he was in the bathroom I would run out—usually into the door. If he spoke to me, I’d get so nervous I’d have to run into the bathroom and throw up. If he didn’t come into the bar, I’d stand around like a widow in mourning and if he did show up I’d run around avoiding him. He got the nickname “Johnny Angel” because everyone knew I liked him, except him. My love for him went on for years. It took two years, but I found my courage to let him know how I felt about him. When I told him how I felt he informed me that I was too faggy for him and that there were many people he would be impressed by, but I wasn’t one of them. So much for grandma sending me a replacement love.
When I lost my friend Kenny to AIDS I realized that I put so much energy into these men that I didn’t appreciate the shoulder he always provided for my tears. Maybe you’re not supposed to replace the love that you lose, maybe you’re suppose to learn from it. Dreaming of Johnny Angel kept me safe from sleeping around. While everyone else was sweating the results from blood tests, I had no fear because the men I wanted didn’t want me. One of the last things Kenny said to me was how lucky I was, and I was lucky. I never realized that in a “straight acting gay lifestyle”, choosing the wrong men saved my life and picking a “faggy acting” friend enhanced it.
till tomorrow...be kind
Thursday, January 28, 2010
DATES PART 1
I always thought that “coming out” to my family would make being gay easier. It hasn’t. There is more “gay bashing” going on in gay bars than in the “straight streets”. Every magazine is filled with Love Wanted ads, but gay love has a catch. See, it’s not a warm heart or someone to care if you live or die that gay men are looking for, it’s “Straight acting gay man seeks same. Butch replies only.” “No fats, no fems.” A union in the gay world is found only if you are the right type.
My grandparents were married for 60 years and had the best of heaven and the worst of hell in their relationship. My parents followed their example, so naturally I thought that was my destiny. Find a guy, settle down and deal with the crap life deals you. I loved my grandmother so much and when I lost her I found myself with so much extra love that I needed to release. I realized that I had to find my soul mate to give that love to. I figured with grandma in heaven she would guide my Mr. Right to me and I would have a replacement for her love. I got a job as a bartender in a gay bar.
I started bartending and found my first “gay” relationship. This gorgeous stud was after me and I let him catch me. I got butterflies in my heart every time we were together. Those butterflies turned into bees and my heart was stung for life. He would recite how much he loved me, but every time the bar door creaked open, he would turn to see who was coming into the bar. I explained to him that I was looking for someone to settle down with and he said he wanted to settle down also. Then he said something that was branded in my mind for eternity. He said, “being faithful is a two-hour movie reality, not a real world reality. I may sleep with other guys, but I’ll always come home to you.”
Huh? I was speechless. Fred Astaire never said that to Ginger Rodgers in those romantic films that based my ideas of relationships. My grandmother used to have all these Irish one-liners, “God is nearer than the door”, “Keep your bedroom blinds up in the afternoon or they will think you’re an alley cat”. I pray to my grandmother to help me and I get her saying, “You can’t blame him if he was never taught any better.”
Sounds good to me.
So I tried to teach him better. I recited the old cliché’s “Love with your heart, not with your pants.” , “Love is a compliment, not a complication.” He learned from me and thanked me for opening his eyes.
He is now in a ten year relationship with a “straight-acting” stud and I learned my first “gay boyfriend” lesson, don’t love the looks.
So, I never judge anyone and I date people on merit and not muscles. One day, I find myself in a bar having a drink . This guy is winking at me from across the bar and I’m flattered. No one has winked at me from across the bar in a long time. I smile and go over. I hate people who stare and don’t speak. They make it seem more like a hunter seeking his prey, then a soul seeking his mate. Anyway, there I am in front of him and we’re talking and I’m telling him where I work and giggling because he’s still winking and acting nervous. I tell him to relax; “you had me on the first wink.” He informs me that he isn’t winking, he suffers from turrets syndrome. He continues to inform me that he hasn’t worked in a while and has no money, but likes to smoke pot and asks me if I have any.
And on that happy note I will end part one, part two gets better...
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
My grandparents were married for 60 years and had the best of heaven and the worst of hell in their relationship. My parents followed their example, so naturally I thought that was my destiny. Find a guy, settle down and deal with the crap life deals you. I loved my grandmother so much and when I lost her I found myself with so much extra love that I needed to release. I realized that I had to find my soul mate to give that love to. I figured with grandma in heaven she would guide my Mr. Right to me and I would have a replacement for her love. I got a job as a bartender in a gay bar.
I started bartending and found my first “gay” relationship. This gorgeous stud was after me and I let him catch me. I got butterflies in my heart every time we were together. Those butterflies turned into bees and my heart was stung for life. He would recite how much he loved me, but every time the bar door creaked open, he would turn to see who was coming into the bar. I explained to him that I was looking for someone to settle down with and he said he wanted to settle down also. Then he said something that was branded in my mind for eternity. He said, “being faithful is a two-hour movie reality, not a real world reality. I may sleep with other guys, but I’ll always come home to you.”
Huh? I was speechless. Fred Astaire never said that to Ginger Rodgers in those romantic films that based my ideas of relationships. My grandmother used to have all these Irish one-liners, “God is nearer than the door”, “Keep your bedroom blinds up in the afternoon or they will think you’re an alley cat”. I pray to my grandmother to help me and I get her saying, “You can’t blame him if he was never taught any better.”
Sounds good to me.
So I tried to teach him better. I recited the old cliché’s “Love with your heart, not with your pants.” , “Love is a compliment, not a complication.” He learned from me and thanked me for opening his eyes.
He is now in a ten year relationship with a “straight-acting” stud and I learned my first “gay boyfriend” lesson, don’t love the looks.
So, I never judge anyone and I date people on merit and not muscles. One day, I find myself in a bar having a drink . This guy is winking at me from across the bar and I’m flattered. No one has winked at me from across the bar in a long time. I smile and go over. I hate people who stare and don’t speak. They make it seem more like a hunter seeking his prey, then a soul seeking his mate. Anyway, there I am in front of him and we’re talking and I’m telling him where I work and giggling because he’s still winking and acting nervous. I tell him to relax; “you had me on the first wink.” He informs me that he isn’t winking, he suffers from turrets syndrome. He continues to inform me that he hasn’t worked in a while and has no money, but likes to smoke pot and asks me if I have any.
And on that happy note I will end part one, part two gets better...
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
KENNY ALTON
Ok so I have been slowly trying to avoid my greatest accomplishment- the event that made me Feathers history. It involved Rodger, Kenny Alton and I. Kenny Alton, my best friend in the whole wide world! I never understood the expression about losing a part of yourself when someone dies, but when Kenny Alton died I lost a part of myself. As I have previously written we worked together in the bar. He was a waiter and I stamped hands. We would go up to the bartenders and ask them to make us their favorite shots- want to get on a bartenders good side ask them to serve you their favorite drink, unless it’s me then I’ll serve you arsenic. Needless to say by two o’clock we were crawling out of the bar. Kenny Alton always had a six pack in his car and we would just chat after the bar closed. His parents owned a business in town and didn’t want him to be gay-very Irish catholic. All he wanted was a boyfriend and a way out of the crazy bar life, it’s what we both wanted and the things we did to find it.
We were tired of the gay games and wanted to meet guys outside the bar life. We’d cruise shopping malls, movie theaters, the show tune sections in music stores; we even went to gay church to cruise the pews for cute guys. I still giggle when I think of how we would try to slip the tongue during the kiss of peace. We were determined to find Mr. Right. We joined a beauty school figuring there would be some gay guys in there. Wrong. No dates to be had. I didn’t even get a career out of it. Once I found out that you had to touch people’s dirty hair I quit the school. (I’m still paying off that loan.)
We even went to the Gay Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Obviously, we weren’t going to meet these guys in the bar if they had an alcoholic problem. Once there, they all swarmed on top of us begging us to share our problems with them. I told them Kenny was the one with the problem and I was just there for support. Kenny denied this and they eat it up! They love someone who denies being an alcoholic and they beg Kenny to get up on the forum and admit he had a problem. He told them that his only problem is listening to me. Then we did shots at the bar and realized that this was one for the memory bank.
Then there was the fat lip memory that still makes me giggle out loud! Big lips were in and I unfortunately was born with the thinnest lips God created. I swore Johnny didn’t love me because of my lips. It was at a time when everyone was getting collagen or Botox or whatever poison was available. Well I was poor and could not afford the treatment. One night Kenny points out this guy that was in a fight and got a fat lip. We both agreed he never looked sexier. So I start to beg Kenny to punch me in the mouth and give me a fat lip. He was refusing. I was pointing out that I could never afford the medical procedure to do it and Johnny will love my lips and he’ll marry me and we’ll be happy and I won’t annoy you anymore screaming “JOHNNY ANGEL”. I was so annoying, but I knew he wouldn’t do it so I turned to pick up my coat but he did do it and swung but instead of getting my lips he got my eye. SLAM! I was in pain and I looked up hoping I was mistaken and it was my lips. We ran into the bathroom and there it was a shiny black eye. There is nothing sexy about a black eye, but it was the bonding of a great friendship.
The last time I recalled that story with Kenny Alton he was in the last stages of AIDS. It had hit his nervous system and I had no idea what that meant. All I knew was that I was never going to see my best friend again. His lover-yes he had a lover at the end of his life- left me alone with Kenny in the living room. I just hugged him, my little Kenny Alton. I was always protecting him and it pissed me off that I couldn’t protect him from this disease. He couldn’t control his body and he twitched a lot. I didn’t care he was still my best friend in the whole wide world. He asked me for a cigarette with a tear in his eye. I lit one for him without thinking. I then went on to remind him about the fat lip and giggled. I noticed the cigarette wasn’t in the ashtray or his hand. I saw smoke come from his stomach. He had dropped the cigarette on his stomach, it had burned a hole in his tee shirt and burned his stomach I jumped and his lover came in and cleaned it up and Kenny Alton just sat there never flinching. He never moved. I left and I cried all the way home and it was the first time I ever cried for me. I cried because I was going to be all alone again. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t find comfort in the attic anymore.
I was losing a part of me. I had no one to share childhood stories with, no one to man hunt with, no one to give me a fat lip.
His parents took his body and wouldn’t let any gay people at the funeral.
The day of his funeral I turned on my radio and “My Boyfriend’s Back” came on the radio – that was his Featherette song.
The Featherette’s…
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
We were tired of the gay games and wanted to meet guys outside the bar life. We’d cruise shopping malls, movie theaters, the show tune sections in music stores; we even went to gay church to cruise the pews for cute guys. I still giggle when I think of how we would try to slip the tongue during the kiss of peace. We were determined to find Mr. Right. We joined a beauty school figuring there would be some gay guys in there. Wrong. No dates to be had. I didn’t even get a career out of it. Once I found out that you had to touch people’s dirty hair I quit the school. (I’m still paying off that loan.)
We even went to the Gay Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Obviously, we weren’t going to meet these guys in the bar if they had an alcoholic problem. Once there, they all swarmed on top of us begging us to share our problems with them. I told them Kenny was the one with the problem and I was just there for support. Kenny denied this and they eat it up! They love someone who denies being an alcoholic and they beg Kenny to get up on the forum and admit he had a problem. He told them that his only problem is listening to me. Then we did shots at the bar and realized that this was one for the memory bank.
Then there was the fat lip memory that still makes me giggle out loud! Big lips were in and I unfortunately was born with the thinnest lips God created. I swore Johnny didn’t love me because of my lips. It was at a time when everyone was getting collagen or Botox or whatever poison was available. Well I was poor and could not afford the treatment. One night Kenny points out this guy that was in a fight and got a fat lip. We both agreed he never looked sexier. So I start to beg Kenny to punch me in the mouth and give me a fat lip. He was refusing. I was pointing out that I could never afford the medical procedure to do it and Johnny will love my lips and he’ll marry me and we’ll be happy and I won’t annoy you anymore screaming “JOHNNY ANGEL”. I was so annoying, but I knew he wouldn’t do it so I turned to pick up my coat but he did do it and swung but instead of getting my lips he got my eye. SLAM! I was in pain and I looked up hoping I was mistaken and it was my lips. We ran into the bathroom and there it was a shiny black eye. There is nothing sexy about a black eye, but it was the bonding of a great friendship.
The last time I recalled that story with Kenny Alton he was in the last stages of AIDS. It had hit his nervous system and I had no idea what that meant. All I knew was that I was never going to see my best friend again. His lover-yes he had a lover at the end of his life- left me alone with Kenny in the living room. I just hugged him, my little Kenny Alton. I was always protecting him and it pissed me off that I couldn’t protect him from this disease. He couldn’t control his body and he twitched a lot. I didn’t care he was still my best friend in the whole wide world. He asked me for a cigarette with a tear in his eye. I lit one for him without thinking. I then went on to remind him about the fat lip and giggled. I noticed the cigarette wasn’t in the ashtray or his hand. I saw smoke come from his stomach. He had dropped the cigarette on his stomach, it had burned a hole in his tee shirt and burned his stomach I jumped and his lover came in and cleaned it up and Kenny Alton just sat there never flinching. He never moved. I left and I cried all the way home and it was the first time I ever cried for me. I cried because I was going to be all alone again. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t find comfort in the attic anymore.
I was losing a part of me. I had no one to share childhood stories with, no one to man hunt with, no one to give me a fat lip.
His parents took his body and wouldn’t let any gay people at the funeral.
The day of his funeral I turned on my radio and “My Boyfriend’s Back” came on the radio – that was his Featherette song.
The Featherette’s…
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
the cast starts to change
The last time I saw Lil Sal he was happy in a relationship. He had mellowed and was kind of “girlie” himself. Peter Mona I see is sky rocketing in the fashion world- didn’t see that coming- and is living a charmed life in Connecticut. They are happy and that is wonderful to hear, not that I am finished writing about either, but so many were not so fortunate to have such successful lives.
Brian P. was a built, gum chewing hottie who ended up just withering away. He was a bartender and a circuit party player. He did it all, yet managed to be kind to people. Back then pretention was everyone’s middle name and even if you didn’t have a right to be pretentious, you were- Brian had the right and he wasn’t. He was always nice to me, but had a chill about him to let me know not to get too close. He was actually Lil Sal’s best friend and they both were friends with TRIXIE.
Trixie was an old time bartender who adored getting high. If I said Trixie’s real name no one would know who it was-Brain- but everyone knew Trixie! I still get people asking how Trixie is and I tell them , last I heard Trixie was working in the basement of a church helping them in their store. Which for Trixie is a BIG switch considering he used to party in a church ( Limelight) Limelight was are furbished church that was made into a gay night club. Gay people have a way of finding irony in all situations. As you threw back the shots you would be faced with Mary holding the Christ Child, or Christ on the Cross. You could stand at the priest pulpit and view all the gays dancing when pews were once placed. It was a sight that I can look back at now and enjoy, but back then could the memory of burning in hell prevented me from enjoying those times. I believe I was there once with Dominic. He was a bar-back or waiter there and got us the VIP treatment. I got to party in the priest changing room with John Kennedy Jr. That room must have known a lot of action because I felt quite comfortable there. Lol.
Club back in those days were outrageous! My favorite was the Palladium. It was the most I ever had in a club and talk about star treatment. I was a Broadway usher for “Song and Dance” at the time and they were throwing a party for Bernadette Peters at the Palladium. I got Sammy and Casper in and we partied with Bernszee. It was a ball! All the dancers from the show showed up and there I was dancing with Broadway dancers. My favorite was Denise Faye- such a sweet heart. By the end of the night we knew everyone. That is just the way it was back then. You meet someone at one party and by year’s end you were best friends with them-just by seeing them out. The funny part of that evening was that at nights end we were leaving and who do we bump into? Trixie! “Babe, I’m everywhere.”
As I had previously stated Trixie had adopted Casper, Sammy and I as her gay daughters. “Babe, give your mother a ride him.” He would say in his Maude gravelly voice. We would and laugh the whole way home. Trixie was always in his own world when he was out and Casper was always the wrong one to put next to him. Casper would goat him on to tell the most highly imaginary stories, by the time we dropped Trixie off he was convinced he had dinner with a porn star and was being driven home in a horse drawn carriage. Trixie had been fired from Feathers, one of Hank’s Florida trip. The funny thing about Feathers was no matter how important people made you think you were there, you weren’t. After you got fired the place still did great business and the friends who swore they would never go back-went back. I don’t think I ever thought of myself as indispensable, but some did. When Brian P. was let go a lot of his stud looking customers went with him, but being they only went to his bar you didn’t notice them when they didn’t come in. The problem with that is they were eye candy and the other customers liked looking at them so when they didn’t come back, some of the customers that liked looking at them didn’t either. That is how the bar ripple effect works…
Till Tomorrow, Be Kind
Brian P. was a built, gum chewing hottie who ended up just withering away. He was a bartender and a circuit party player. He did it all, yet managed to be kind to people. Back then pretention was everyone’s middle name and even if you didn’t have a right to be pretentious, you were- Brian had the right and he wasn’t. He was always nice to me, but had a chill about him to let me know not to get too close. He was actually Lil Sal’s best friend and they both were friends with TRIXIE.
Trixie was an old time bartender who adored getting high. If I said Trixie’s real name no one would know who it was-Brain- but everyone knew Trixie! I still get people asking how Trixie is and I tell them , last I heard Trixie was working in the basement of a church helping them in their store. Which for Trixie is a BIG switch considering he used to party in a church ( Limelight) Limelight was are furbished church that was made into a gay night club. Gay people have a way of finding irony in all situations. As you threw back the shots you would be faced with Mary holding the Christ Child, or Christ on the Cross. You could stand at the priest pulpit and view all the gays dancing when pews were once placed. It was a sight that I can look back at now and enjoy, but back then could the memory of burning in hell prevented me from enjoying those times. I believe I was there once with Dominic. He was a bar-back or waiter there and got us the VIP treatment. I got to party in the priest changing room with John Kennedy Jr. That room must have known a lot of action because I felt quite comfortable there. Lol.
Club back in those days were outrageous! My favorite was the Palladium. It was the most I ever had in a club and talk about star treatment. I was a Broadway usher for “Song and Dance” at the time and they were throwing a party for Bernadette Peters at the Palladium. I got Sammy and Casper in and we partied with Bernszee. It was a ball! All the dancers from the show showed up and there I was dancing with Broadway dancers. My favorite was Denise Faye- such a sweet heart. By the end of the night we knew everyone. That is just the way it was back then. You meet someone at one party and by year’s end you were best friends with them-just by seeing them out. The funny part of that evening was that at nights end we were leaving and who do we bump into? Trixie! “Babe, I’m everywhere.”
As I had previously stated Trixie had adopted Casper, Sammy and I as her gay daughters. “Babe, give your mother a ride him.” He would say in his Maude gravelly voice. We would and laugh the whole way home. Trixie was always in his own world when he was out and Casper was always the wrong one to put next to him. Casper would goat him on to tell the most highly imaginary stories, by the time we dropped Trixie off he was convinced he had dinner with a porn star and was being driven home in a horse drawn carriage. Trixie had been fired from Feathers, one of Hank’s Florida trip. The funny thing about Feathers was no matter how important people made you think you were there, you weren’t. After you got fired the place still did great business and the friends who swore they would never go back-went back. I don’t think I ever thought of myself as indispensable, but some did. When Brian P. was let go a lot of his stud looking customers went with him, but being they only went to his bar you didn’t notice them when they didn’t come in. The problem with that is they were eye candy and the other customers liked looking at them so when they didn’t come back, some of the customers that liked looking at them didn’t either. That is how the bar ripple effect works…
Till Tomorrow, Be Kind
Monday, January 25, 2010
Lil Sal and Elxa and Peter Mona
Little Sal, I don’t think I did him justice by writing a little blurb about someone who I should have fallen for. He was Italian, rude, annoying, big-hearted, and sweet and every other adjective that “butch” gay men avoided. What was it he said to me when asking me out on a date, oh yeah-“You know I might ask you out on a date if you weren’t so girlie, but I have a reputation?” Yes, compliments just spit out of Lil Sal’s mouth like sonnets from Shakespeare. Yet, whenever I went out to after hour clubs he was right there, dumping the person he was with to drive me home. I was never allowed to date anyone. I got a job in Feathers coatroom after the summer of fun and finding myself. Hank told me that I could not keep the tips because the tip money was what the bar owner used to pay the electric bill for the parking lot lights. Without that money the bar would close because they couldn’t afford the light bill. I believed Hank, Lil Sal knew better. He would take some of the tips and slip them in my coat pocket. I would get home and find one hundred dollars or more! Imagine what I was really making…How do you spell fool?
Sal also had a condo in Florida that he would let me vacation in. It was on the water and he had a boat. Good times. He showed up when I was down there once, claiming he didn’t know I was there; mind you he gave me the key. I wrote a play about my whole Johnny era and it is funny, in the play my character ended up with Lil Sal.
Oh, if we could only write our lives before we lived them.
There were so many characters like Little Sal that made Feathers what it is today. All the old timers call Feathers a “gay Cheers”, the problem is that the customers that go to the club now have probably never seen an episode of “Cheers”…lol.
Time references age us all. It's like ordering a 7 and 7. Well today's drinkers came out after 7-up died and sprite took it's place. That is how I knew the ages of my customers, if they ordered a vodka 7 I knew they were over thirty...It they ordered a vodka sprite they were under thirty. Think about it.
I like to think of Feathers as a gay High School. Everything that the straight kids did in high school we do in Feathers. Our first crush, our first freedom to be ourselves without judgment…Did I just type that with a straight face? Imagine a gay bar without judgment? Can’t, can you? I remember I didn’t know what gossip was, I think it was a bar character named Peter Mona who introduced the phase, “Got any dish?” I had no idea what “dish” was never mind gossip.
When I was in the coatroom Lil Sal would never let me “dish”. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble if you talk about people?” “And what should I talk about?” I would inquire. “ME” he would say with a wink.
He was so funny. At Christmas time he would wave his mistletoe around me, chanting “I’ve got a piece of mistletoe! I’ve got a piece of mistletoe!” to which I would reply, “I got herpes.” “I’ll take my chances” he would seductively whisper as he came in for the prize. I would pull a “Sandra Dee” and throw him my forehead and keep it clean. Guys like Lil Sal didn’t want clean, they wanted tongue.
Peter Mona, a name from the past. There are some people you meet and you don’t realize the impression they have made in your life until twenty years later when you revisit the pictures in your mind and they are in them, not necessarily in the fore-front, but smiling away. That was Peter Mona. He was there for all my zany adventures and giving his all. He was the blond Casper and when Casper was kicked out of the bar Peter filled the void. He was in the “We Are The World” bar video,Gary Cosgrove,the Christmas shows, Fire Island and part of the skid row gang. Peter and Dominick were two of a kind. Both of them were strictly out for the guys and when they set their target- they usually hit a bull’s-eye.
But I am rushing the stories. We still have to get to Rodger , Elxa Rodgers, the mother of all drag queens, well all Feathers Drag queens. Rodger was a Carol Burnett impersonator-you are showing your age if you know who Carol Burnett is…lol. He impersonated the most obscure people ever,Barbara Mandrell, Shriley Jones, Petula Clark and Charro! When I had returned from my laundry mat experience with Terry, I had stumbled into Rodger. Rodger was a guy who should have been a girl but liked fighting for gay rights. Rodger was a great impersonator and had a strange following..I remember once he couldn’t find a song for a show so he did an overture. AN OVERTURE! He dressed as a woman to parade around to an overture and Kenny Alton and I peeked through the curtain and could not believe that they were tipping him to parade around to an overture! When he came backstage we laughed and congratulated him on his success with the overture. As he reapplied his lipstick he said “And you are surprised? A star can make opening an envelope an event if they have talent. You’re up next knock’em dead, star” Rodger was a lot of things, but most importantly he was a person’s greatest cheerleader.
Till Tomorrow Be kind
Sal also had a condo in Florida that he would let me vacation in. It was on the water and he had a boat. Good times. He showed up when I was down there once, claiming he didn’t know I was there; mind you he gave me the key. I wrote a play about my whole Johnny era and it is funny, in the play my character ended up with Lil Sal.
Oh, if we could only write our lives before we lived them.
There were so many characters like Little Sal that made Feathers what it is today. All the old timers call Feathers a “gay Cheers”, the problem is that the customers that go to the club now have probably never seen an episode of “Cheers”…lol.
Time references age us all. It's like ordering a 7 and 7. Well today's drinkers came out after 7-up died and sprite took it's place. That is how I knew the ages of my customers, if they ordered a vodka 7 I knew they were over thirty...It they ordered a vodka sprite they were under thirty. Think about it.
I like to think of Feathers as a gay High School. Everything that the straight kids did in high school we do in Feathers. Our first crush, our first freedom to be ourselves without judgment…Did I just type that with a straight face? Imagine a gay bar without judgment? Can’t, can you? I remember I didn’t know what gossip was, I think it was a bar character named Peter Mona who introduced the phase, “Got any dish?” I had no idea what “dish” was never mind gossip.
When I was in the coatroom Lil Sal would never let me “dish”. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble if you talk about people?” “And what should I talk about?” I would inquire. “ME” he would say with a wink.
He was so funny. At Christmas time he would wave his mistletoe around me, chanting “I’ve got a piece of mistletoe! I’ve got a piece of mistletoe!” to which I would reply, “I got herpes.” “I’ll take my chances” he would seductively whisper as he came in for the prize. I would pull a “Sandra Dee” and throw him my forehead and keep it clean. Guys like Lil Sal didn’t want clean, they wanted tongue.
Peter Mona, a name from the past. There are some people you meet and you don’t realize the impression they have made in your life until twenty years later when you revisit the pictures in your mind and they are in them, not necessarily in the fore-front, but smiling away. That was Peter Mona. He was there for all my zany adventures and giving his all. He was the blond Casper and when Casper was kicked out of the bar Peter filled the void. He was in the “We Are The World” bar video,Gary Cosgrove,the Christmas shows, Fire Island and part of the skid row gang. Peter and Dominick were two of a kind. Both of them were strictly out for the guys and when they set their target- they usually hit a bull’s-eye.
But I am rushing the stories. We still have to get to Rodger , Elxa Rodgers, the mother of all drag queens, well all Feathers Drag queens. Rodger was a Carol Burnett impersonator-you are showing your age if you know who Carol Burnett is…lol. He impersonated the most obscure people ever,Barbara Mandrell, Shriley Jones, Petula Clark and Charro! When I had returned from my laundry mat experience with Terry, I had stumbled into Rodger. Rodger was a guy who should have been a girl but liked fighting for gay rights. Rodger was a great impersonator and had a strange following..I remember once he couldn’t find a song for a show so he did an overture. AN OVERTURE! He dressed as a woman to parade around to an overture and Kenny Alton and I peeked through the curtain and could not believe that they were tipping him to parade around to an overture! When he came backstage we laughed and congratulated him on his success with the overture. As he reapplied his lipstick he said “And you are surprised? A star can make opening an envelope an event if they have talent. You’re up next knock’em dead, star” Rodger was a lot of things, but most importantly he was a person’s greatest cheerleader.
Till Tomorrow Be kind
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Lil Sal and the Park
I remember back in the early years of Feathers there was more of a comradery among the employee’s. Hank and Oe were our bosses and we really never hung out with them. All of the bartenders and waiters hung out. We were thick as thieves and had each other’s backs back then. I remember one time Hank fired me saying no one liked me; meanwhile half the staff was in my apartment as he spoke those words. We did so many things together. We went to the Circus and had our faces painted as clowns, we went to Wednesday matinee shows on Broadway and sleigh riding. Whenever there was a snow fall we would take beer boxes out of the garbage and head to Haworth gold course and sleigh down the hills of the golf course. Grab some hot chocolate from the diner and just have a good time. We were a very spontaneous group. Marty, the bartender I made donuts for would get these ideas and we would just go along with them. He hated going to the diner or gay bars on his nights off, so he could come up with these creative things to do, made a lot of good memories. Sometimes after the bar closed we would just go hang in the park that used to be behind the club.
In the day there were no office buildings, it was all residential houses. When you came off route four there was a park to the right. That was another reason why the cops used to bother the club back then- the music in a residential area. I remember there were the strangest people that lived in those houses. Across from the parking lot and along the rail road tracks used to be store fronts. I can’t remember what kind of businesses, but it was very “small town” looking. There was also a Pizza Town over by the McDonalds, across River Road. Hank used to order pizza for the bar. Imagine having a “Pizza Night” in a bar, well he did. Hank also had a “White Castle” hamburger night. I don’t know about you, but White Castle is supposed to be for after you drink, not during.
We would hang for hours in the park and just talk and laugh. Guys would swing other guys and no one make fun of them. There was no judgment at three o’clock in the morning. We played on the see-saw and just relived a life we were never allowed to have. We didn’t need liquor or a drug to enhance the moments, just being free to be us was the high. There are so many moments that straight people take for granted that gay people would love to embellish, swinging a lover on a swing is one of them. Gay Pride Day was another. They used to have a Ferris wheel at the earlier gay pride day parades and it was so romantic to ride a Ferris wheel in the arms of your lover. We would get stares just shopping together and names called at us if we were too close to each other. There are so many “not made” memories in the live of gay people because society prevented them. I watch “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” and think how acceptable it would be to see two men walk hand in hand from Port Authority?
But the night time belonged to us. We could be ourselves and no one would see us. They were asleep and we came alive. Even Lil Sal became part of the “out” crowd. Lil Sal was the bouncer at Feathers. In the old days the bouncers were butch gay men. They were hot and built and bullies, Lil Sal were no exception. He was called Lil Sal because there was a Big Sal. Oy vey Big Sal! Big Sal and Paul and Lil Sal were the bouncers and Big Sal and Paul would use me as their football. They would throw me across the dance floor! It was their form of entertainment. They wouldn’t stop until one of them dropped me. There is my “anything to be accepted” mentality-I let them. They were big guys, but pussy cats. Like Big Sal always said, “Anyone call me a name I’ll beat them up.” Lil Sal was different. His family owned a vegetable market in the city and had all these distributors. One Christmas he had mentioned that he wasn’t going to put a tree up. I threw a fit and told him that we would cut the tree ourselves-make it a special Christmas. Well, he agreed! We went to an area and took the saw and I climbed up a tree to just cut the top off. Trying to prove to him I was “butch”. I climbed the tree myself and sawed the tree top and yelled “Timber”. The tree top fell to the ground. It was late at night so we just tied it to the roof and took off- who knew it was illegal to top down town trees. We get back to his apartment and the tree was the size of the apartment! We were hysterical as we dragged the tree into the apartment and had to go into the kitchen with it. It had to be 18 feet high! We go the tree in and broke open a bottle of Dewars. We chopped and cut and creatively decorated Lil Sal’s first Christmas tree. By the time the bottle was finished so were we. We fell asleep under the tree with the bottle and branches and each other to keep us warm.
In the day there were no office buildings, it was all residential houses. When you came off route four there was a park to the right. That was another reason why the cops used to bother the club back then- the music in a residential area. I remember there were the strangest people that lived in those houses. Across from the parking lot and along the rail road tracks used to be store fronts. I can’t remember what kind of businesses, but it was very “small town” looking. There was also a Pizza Town over by the McDonalds, across River Road. Hank used to order pizza for the bar. Imagine having a “Pizza Night” in a bar, well he did. Hank also had a “White Castle” hamburger night. I don’t know about you, but White Castle is supposed to be for after you drink, not during.
We would hang for hours in the park and just talk and laugh. Guys would swing other guys and no one make fun of them. There was no judgment at three o’clock in the morning. We played on the see-saw and just relived a life we were never allowed to have. We didn’t need liquor or a drug to enhance the moments, just being free to be us was the high. There are so many moments that straight people take for granted that gay people would love to embellish, swinging a lover on a swing is one of them. Gay Pride Day was another. They used to have a Ferris wheel at the earlier gay pride day parades and it was so romantic to ride a Ferris wheel in the arms of your lover. We would get stares just shopping together and names called at us if we were too close to each other. There are so many “not made” memories in the live of gay people because society prevented them. I watch “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” and think how acceptable it would be to see two men walk hand in hand from Port Authority?
But the night time belonged to us. We could be ourselves and no one would see us. They were asleep and we came alive. Even Lil Sal became part of the “out” crowd. Lil Sal was the bouncer at Feathers. In the old days the bouncers were butch gay men. They were hot and built and bullies, Lil Sal were no exception. He was called Lil Sal because there was a Big Sal. Oy vey Big Sal! Big Sal and Paul and Lil Sal were the bouncers and Big Sal and Paul would use me as their football. They would throw me across the dance floor! It was their form of entertainment. They wouldn’t stop until one of them dropped me. There is my “anything to be accepted” mentality-I let them. They were big guys, but pussy cats. Like Big Sal always said, “Anyone call me a name I’ll beat them up.” Lil Sal was different. His family owned a vegetable market in the city and had all these distributors. One Christmas he had mentioned that he wasn’t going to put a tree up. I threw a fit and told him that we would cut the tree ourselves-make it a special Christmas. Well, he agreed! We went to an area and took the saw and I climbed up a tree to just cut the top off. Trying to prove to him I was “butch”. I climbed the tree myself and sawed the tree top and yelled “Timber”. The tree top fell to the ground. It was late at night so we just tied it to the roof and took off- who knew it was illegal to top down town trees. We get back to his apartment and the tree was the size of the apartment! We were hysterical as we dragged the tree into the apartment and had to go into the kitchen with it. It had to be 18 feet high! We go the tree in and broke open a bottle of Dewars. We chopped and cut and creatively decorated Lil Sal’s first Christmas tree. By the time the bottle was finished so were we. We fell asleep under the tree with the bottle and branches and each other to keep us warm.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
early performers
Monday was the big dollar night. Today a dollar night is a big thing, but back then drinks were two dollars, so dollar night was just a half price night. There was no cover; actually there were never any covers except Friday and Saturday. Aside from Monday there weren’t any other discount drink nights, yet the bar was always busy. Immy Ane kept Tuesday nights PACKED with his drag show. He performed everyone from Judy Garland to Bette Midler to Julia Child. He was so funny, but when you’re at the top and hot the only way to go is…What becomes a legend? He took to drinking I remember his last show he just stared, very trance-like, at the spot light. The music played, but his lips never moved. After the song he commented how lovely the song was, “who sang it?”
Mind you he wrote the show up.
Side note: Writing the show up is when the drag performer writes down the songs they will be doing at gives it to the Dee-jay.
Thursday’s back in there day were Jackie Nicole and Kevin Jackson.
Jackie Nicole was having a sex change. She was the first I ever met like that. She was a wonderful, at peace person. While the rest of us were racing around trying to find ourselves and be accepted, Jackie did it and came out a winner! She was engaged and working at Macy’s as a make-up artist. Her last show at the bar was packed!!! Busier than a night before Thanksgiving! She got countless numbers of roses and I would say standing ovation, but the audience was standing to begin with. The sad side of Jackie was that when her fiancé’s family found out about her sex change they pressured him to dump her. I think she became fat.
Kevin Jackson! Kevin Jackson was hired by Diana Ross’ people to impersonate her at her concerts so that she could go out another exist. He was flawless as Diana Ross. Rumor has it that he got himself into a car accident so that he could have plastic surgery to look like her. I doubt it, but some say it. He was the greatest performer I have ever seen, yet the most self destructive person I have ever met. I am still in awe when I see him perform, but I know he is going to hit me up for money so he can drink. Back in the day Hank would not let the performers drink until after the show. Kevin had a flask. He was so funny…He would call everyone “Nadine.” “Nadine get me water.” “Nadine get me towels.” “Nadine get me a boyfriend.” It took me two years to get up the nerve to say hello to him and when I did he told me to get my lily white ass out of his dressing room. The tone changed when he found out I was a waiter and could get him a drink. Then it was, “Nadine, you’re my favorite!” Years later we were actually roommate, but that is another blog-my room-in-mate years.
Sunday sported both Chakka Savalas and Elgin. Elgin supposedly got his drag name from a toilet. Chakka was a fun mess. She was a he who was going for the change but couldn’t afford it so only got half way through it. She has the tiniest tits because she couldn’t afford the implants yet. Chakka just did whatever songs she wanted. She loved the songs like, “It’s Raining Men”, “One Night Only” and the entire one hit wonders. When she passed away I cried. She was a mess, but such a fun one. She would never hurt a soul.
Elgin did Donna Summers. She was big in the 80’s and they loved Elgin. Elgin had a vest that was made of mirror squares. It always stood out in my memory of Elgin, that, and David Ryan who would be Elgin’s side kick. David LOVED the spot-light. Elgin was the most professional, I never saw him drink and he was the only one who performed because he loved to perform. There was no ego, or wanting to be a girl. He was a performer and would undress right after the show. Some of the performers never changed. It was weird chatting with a guy who had on a girls face. Weird!
The nights were packed and the people kept coming out for more! These performers were sold-out and making way for the next generation of performers- the ones who would change the bar forever!
The Featherette’s
Mind you he wrote the show up.
Side note: Writing the show up is when the drag performer writes down the songs they will be doing at gives it to the Dee-jay.
Thursday’s back in there day were Jackie Nicole and Kevin Jackson.
Jackie Nicole was having a sex change. She was the first I ever met like that. She was a wonderful, at peace person. While the rest of us were racing around trying to find ourselves and be accepted, Jackie did it and came out a winner! She was engaged and working at Macy’s as a make-up artist. Her last show at the bar was packed!!! Busier than a night before Thanksgiving! She got countless numbers of roses and I would say standing ovation, but the audience was standing to begin with. The sad side of Jackie was that when her fiancé’s family found out about her sex change they pressured him to dump her. I think she became fat.
Kevin Jackson! Kevin Jackson was hired by Diana Ross’ people to impersonate her at her concerts so that she could go out another exist. He was flawless as Diana Ross. Rumor has it that he got himself into a car accident so that he could have plastic surgery to look like her. I doubt it, but some say it. He was the greatest performer I have ever seen, yet the most self destructive person I have ever met. I am still in awe when I see him perform, but I know he is going to hit me up for money so he can drink. Back in the day Hank would not let the performers drink until after the show. Kevin had a flask. He was so funny…He would call everyone “Nadine.” “Nadine get me water.” “Nadine get me towels.” “Nadine get me a boyfriend.” It took me two years to get up the nerve to say hello to him and when I did he told me to get my lily white ass out of his dressing room. The tone changed when he found out I was a waiter and could get him a drink. Then it was, “Nadine, you’re my favorite!” Years later we were actually roommate, but that is another blog-my room-in-mate years.
Sunday sported both Chakka Savalas and Elgin. Elgin supposedly got his drag name from a toilet. Chakka was a fun mess. She was a he who was going for the change but couldn’t afford it so only got half way through it. She has the tiniest tits because she couldn’t afford the implants yet. Chakka just did whatever songs she wanted. She loved the songs like, “It’s Raining Men”, “One Night Only” and the entire one hit wonders. When she passed away I cried. She was a mess, but such a fun one. She would never hurt a soul.
Elgin did Donna Summers. She was big in the 80’s and they loved Elgin. Elgin had a vest that was made of mirror squares. It always stood out in my memory of Elgin, that, and David Ryan who would be Elgin’s side kick. David LOVED the spot-light. Elgin was the most professional, I never saw him drink and he was the only one who performed because he loved to perform. There was no ego, or wanting to be a girl. He was a performer and would undress right after the show. Some of the performers never changed. It was weird chatting with a guy who had on a girls face. Weird!
The nights were packed and the people kept coming out for more! These performers were sold-out and making way for the next generation of performers- the ones who would change the bar forever!
The Featherette’s
Friday, January 22, 2010
MEN
There was a funny atmosphere in those early days at the bar. I remember going up to say hi to a guy and he turned to me and said, “Don’t waste your time I am not going to sleep with you.” Of course I turned to him and replied, “I just wanted to inform you that you had something hanging from your nose.” He nervously played with his nose as I triumphantly walked away. It was a small victory being I did want to sleep with him. So many nights back then guys would glue themselves to the wall and not move. They would stare and never talk. The bar scene was more like a hunter stalking its prey than a soul looking for its mate.
Everyone wanted a lover, but no one would talk to each other. The only way you found a lover was if you were hot, or hot in bed. I think the gay life style lost that whole dating life. Not by choice, but because society wouldn’t allow you to be a couple in public. Today we fight for gay marriage and our rights, but even if we had it would we really be equal? Would you really feel comfortable walking down the street, hand in hand, with your partner? There is a BIG responsibility that comes with equality and I am not sure the life style is set up to accept it. There is so much fighting going on within the lifestyle, how can we be expected to be seen standing together in public?
I remember going to Don’t Tell MaMa’s years ago, it’s a piano bar in Manhattan, I left the bar with this guy and we walked hand-in-hand to Times Square, it was a tender-sober- moment. We laughed as we swung our arms in the air. Times Square is empty and quiet at 3am, but still bright and the heart of NYC. We kissed in Duffy Square (the half price ticket area). It was the first time I kissed a guy in public. The fresh night time air surrounded our lips and our moist lips felt the warm night air. My insides were exploding with joy and equality. Never, did I ever think I would ever know this simple joy in life! A simple kiss that is branded into my memory in my heart, as is what happened next. A bottle scattered at our feet to snap us into reality. As the bottle broke at our feet the distance cries of “FAG” followed from a car full of Jersey straight boys. My forgotten lover just said, “I guess we shouldn’t have kissed in public.” That is the memory of my first love’s kiss, I was twenty five.
In 1998 Matthew Sheppard was beaten and killed for being gay. It was a hate crime. The Wyoming Legislature introduced a bill defining attacks motivated by victim identity as hate crimes- it failed to get passed.
At the federal level, President Clinton tried in vain to have federal hate crimes to include homosexual individuals, women, and people with disabilities. His efforts were rejected by the US House of Representatives in 1999.
In March of 2007, the Matthew Shepard Act (HR 1592) was introduced again, but President Bush indicated that he might veto the bill, so it was dropped. The Matthew Shepard Act was adopted as an amendment by a vote of 63-28 on July 15, 2009.
Twenty eight people were against it.
Virginia Foxx of North Carolina called the crime a “hoax”.
The anti-gay Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas, led by Fred Phelps, picketed Shepard’s funeral as well as the trial of his assailants, displaying signs with slogans such as “Matt Shepard rots in Hell”, “AIDS Kills Fags Dead”. Phelps attempted to gain a city permit to build a monument with a bronze plaque bearing Shepard’s picture with the words “MATTHEW SHEPARD, Entered Hell October 12, 1998, in defiance of GOD’S warning.”
Are we any closer to equality?
As I walk around the bar today I see so many faces from the past, so many studs that are still silently eyeing their prey, except they are no longer the tight skinned men that drove the awkward new comers crazy. They have sagged and have aged and have conveniently forgotten that time has marched on and they cannot afford to stay silent against the wall unless they want to stay alone forever.
So I am standing against the wall one night looking around at the ghost of the past when a guy walks up to me, he has aged and mellowed and has a twitch and he says hi and I, remembering him from long ago, repeats the words that were shot into my heart many years ago, “Don’t waste your time I am not going to sleep with you” I said smiling fondly at my long ago stud. “I have money” he says not realizing the irony of the situation.
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
Everyone wanted a lover, but no one would talk to each other. The only way you found a lover was if you were hot, or hot in bed. I think the gay life style lost that whole dating life. Not by choice, but because society wouldn’t allow you to be a couple in public. Today we fight for gay marriage and our rights, but even if we had it would we really be equal? Would you really feel comfortable walking down the street, hand in hand, with your partner? There is a BIG responsibility that comes with equality and I am not sure the life style is set up to accept it. There is so much fighting going on within the lifestyle, how can we be expected to be seen standing together in public?
I remember going to Don’t Tell MaMa’s years ago, it’s a piano bar in Manhattan, I left the bar with this guy and we walked hand-in-hand to Times Square, it was a tender-sober- moment. We laughed as we swung our arms in the air. Times Square is empty and quiet at 3am, but still bright and the heart of NYC. We kissed in Duffy Square (the half price ticket area). It was the first time I kissed a guy in public. The fresh night time air surrounded our lips and our moist lips felt the warm night air. My insides were exploding with joy and equality. Never, did I ever think I would ever know this simple joy in life! A simple kiss that is branded into my memory in my heart, as is what happened next. A bottle scattered at our feet to snap us into reality. As the bottle broke at our feet the distance cries of “FAG” followed from a car full of Jersey straight boys. My forgotten lover just said, “I guess we shouldn’t have kissed in public.” That is the memory of my first love’s kiss, I was twenty five.
In 1998 Matthew Sheppard was beaten and killed for being gay. It was a hate crime. The Wyoming Legislature introduced a bill defining attacks motivated by victim identity as hate crimes- it failed to get passed.
At the federal level, President Clinton tried in vain to have federal hate crimes to include homosexual individuals, women, and people with disabilities. His efforts were rejected by the US House of Representatives in 1999.
In March of 2007, the Matthew Shepard Act (HR 1592) was introduced again, but President Bush indicated that he might veto the bill, so it was dropped. The Matthew Shepard Act was adopted as an amendment by a vote of 63-28 on July 15, 2009.
Twenty eight people were against it.
Virginia Foxx of North Carolina called the crime a “hoax”.
The anti-gay Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas, led by Fred Phelps, picketed Shepard’s funeral as well as the trial of his assailants, displaying signs with slogans such as “Matt Shepard rots in Hell”, “AIDS Kills Fags Dead”. Phelps attempted to gain a city permit to build a monument with a bronze plaque bearing Shepard’s picture with the words “MATTHEW SHEPARD, Entered Hell October 12, 1998, in defiance of GOD’S warning.”
Are we any closer to equality?
As I walk around the bar today I see so many faces from the past, so many studs that are still silently eyeing their prey, except they are no longer the tight skinned men that drove the awkward new comers crazy. They have sagged and have aged and have conveniently forgotten that time has marched on and they cannot afford to stay silent against the wall unless they want to stay alone forever.
So I am standing against the wall one night looking around at the ghost of the past when a guy walks up to me, he has aged and mellowed and has a twitch and he says hi and I, remembering him from long ago, repeats the words that were shot into my heart many years ago, “Don’t waste your time I am not going to sleep with you” I said smiling fondly at my long ago stud. “I have money” he says not realizing the irony of the situation.
Till Tomorrow Be Kind
Thursday, January 21, 2010
TIMMY
Drugs really did play a part of the 80’s even if you didn’t take them. “Hi, didn’t mean to punch you, I was on drugs.” “Did I promise you a job last night? Sorry I don’t remember I was on drugs?” “Did I really say I loved you? I MUST have been on drugs.”
People asked me why I never got caught up in all the drugs, well when you watch it you kind of know how to avoid it.
I remember this one time a guy must have been doing coke all night in the bathroom because when he ordered a drink from me his nose just started to bleed and would not stop. It was insane! And this guy took it as a natural thing.
Once there was this guy licking the street. I asked his friend why he was licking the street, his friend answered,“ he dropped his drugs.” Well you could knock me over with a feather when I turned to see him lick the street area in which he dropped it. He laid there licking up pebbles and glass fragments figuring something had to be his hit. I was dumb-founded. I started to laugh. What else do you do when you see a person tripping out, in lemon/lime neon spandex running shorts, bending over licking the street of NYC for drugs?
Some of these guys were models that walked off the cover of a magazine and ended up being billboards for drug rehab. Timmy was one that I still see at the bus stop in Hackensack. Timmy was a tennis instructor who also modeled on the side. He would always come into the bar and have a smile just for me. I was always on cloud nine. He dated the hottest guys and always stopped by to say hi to me. I was a moron. These things used to make me feel special. Anyway, Timmy would go to Paris for dinner and Florida for week-ends. He had the most beautiful blue eyes. Stunning!
Timmy started dating this model that was featured on the cover of GQ. He was the talk of the bar and Timmy fell for him, hook, line and sinker. This GQ model was into coke and got Timmy into it. The slide was slow and twenty years later I am a vague smile to Timmy. A smile that is missing teeth and the ones remaining are yellow. I tried to talk with him and see if he wanted help. He told me that it was too hard being good-looking. He was happy where he was. His last words to me were, “Do you have any extra change.” Now when I see him he looks the other way.
If this story was unique it would be a sad story, but there are so many Timmy’s in my life and in all of our lives. People how fall short of our expectations for them, but what do they expect?
Till tomorrow be kind
People asked me why I never got caught up in all the drugs, well when you watch it you kind of know how to avoid it.
I remember this one time a guy must have been doing coke all night in the bathroom because when he ordered a drink from me his nose just started to bleed and would not stop. It was insane! And this guy took it as a natural thing.
Once there was this guy licking the street. I asked his friend why he was licking the street, his friend answered,“ he dropped his drugs.” Well you could knock me over with a feather when I turned to see him lick the street area in which he dropped it. He laid there licking up pebbles and glass fragments figuring something had to be his hit. I was dumb-founded. I started to laugh. What else do you do when you see a person tripping out, in lemon/lime neon spandex running shorts, bending over licking the street of NYC for drugs?
Some of these guys were models that walked off the cover of a magazine and ended up being billboards for drug rehab. Timmy was one that I still see at the bus stop in Hackensack. Timmy was a tennis instructor who also modeled on the side. He would always come into the bar and have a smile just for me. I was always on cloud nine. He dated the hottest guys and always stopped by to say hi to me. I was a moron. These things used to make me feel special. Anyway, Timmy would go to Paris for dinner and Florida for week-ends. He had the most beautiful blue eyes. Stunning!
Timmy started dating this model that was featured on the cover of GQ. He was the talk of the bar and Timmy fell for him, hook, line and sinker. This GQ model was into coke and got Timmy into it. The slide was slow and twenty years later I am a vague smile to Timmy. A smile that is missing teeth and the ones remaining are yellow. I tried to talk with him and see if he wanted help. He told me that it was too hard being good-looking. He was happy where he was. His last words to me were, “Do you have any extra change.” Now when I see him he looks the other way.
If this story was unique it would be a sad story, but there are so many Timmy’s in my life and in all of our lives. People how fall short of our expectations for them, but what do they expect?
Till tomorrow be kind
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
PARTY
Today Hank and Oe live together in Florida,at least that is what I have heard.It seems Hank had a health scare and Oe was there for him. I guess Oe was there for Hank after all, but twenty some odd years ago they are not there for each other. If you knew them back in the day, them living together would have seem impossible to believe. While they rode the road to success in the club world, they were untouchable. Every club owner wanted them to run their club, but they had the most successful club. If they were only satisfied, but they weren’t they wanted more. How can you have more when you have it all? That is where the beginning of the fall began.
But, I am rushing things, Casper, Sammy and I had become good friends. We did everything together. Back then there were no call waiting or number ID. We thought we were cool because Sammy knew someone at the phone company that could patch the three of us together. We made collect phone calls and third number calls. If you are under thirty these words are foreign to you.
Sidenote here...Third number calls were when you call someone from a payphone and charge it to your home number. I used to fight the the operation all the time because someone had to be at your home number to accept the charge. "I live on my own, how can someone be there to accept the charge?"
All the fun times we had going into the city and getting lost chasing Mr. Right. First,we would start off the night deciding the destination that we were going to end at, usually David’s Pot Belly. We loved their potato balls. Then, we would have a drink at the Monster and usually by the time we finished the first drink we had guys buying us our second.
There is nothing better than a New York Romance.
A few drinks at the Monster and then buying a fifth and walking down to Christopher Street pier. The romantic banter and warmth of each other’s hands as we would stroll down the avenue, commenting on the unique stores that lines the way. At the pier you could see the boats on the Hudson and the New York skyline was your backdrop. They were beautiful one of a kind moments that I shared with many. We would usually go back to their place and I was sure this was it! By 3:30am I was at David’s Pot Belly with Sammy and Casper, laughing at our night adventure. Sometimes Dominick or Chris would pop in and we would have a Jersey reunion in NYC. Those days were very typical back then.
Sammy usually found at least four boyfriends – sometimes at one time- a night. Casper always found the party and the drugs. OMG he could sniff out a party like a cat sniffs out a mouse. Sometimes we would meet at go back to the party he had found. Back in those days the party started at Feathers and we drank our free drinks and then at about 11pm hit the city, at about 4am hit the after hour clubs and then at about 7am find our way home so we could do it again the next night.
PRIDE week-end was the best and ones that I could never do again. The running question when the three of us get together is how did we survived those days?
We would start drinking at Feathers at about 9:30pm on a Saturday night until about 1am then hit the city at about 4am we would hit the Tiffany diner and then hit the afterhours clubs until 7-8 am. There would usually be a circuit party that kept us dancing until noon when the Parade started. After the Parade was the pier dance and then Monday morning would find us in someone’s apartment looking for a piece of mail so we could find out who we went home with!
It is at this moment that I have to thank Eddie the manager, if it wasn’t for him God knows where I would have ended up. While all this partying was going on Eddie and I were friends also. Eddie was a strict anti drug person and told me he would disown me as a friend. Well, thank-God I valued Eddie’s friendship because I never got caught up in the drug scene. I cannot say I never tried drugs, but I never got into the scene. Besides I didn’t want hot guys, I wanted John, my angel….Not saying he wasn’t hot…See how I always get myself in trouble!
Till Tomorrow, Be kind
But, I am rushing things, Casper, Sammy and I had become good friends. We did everything together. Back then there were no call waiting or number ID. We thought we were cool because Sammy knew someone at the phone company that could patch the three of us together. We made collect phone calls and third number calls. If you are under thirty these words are foreign to you.
Sidenote here...Third number calls were when you call someone from a payphone and charge it to your home number. I used to fight the the operation all the time because someone had to be at your home number to accept the charge. "I live on my own, how can someone be there to accept the charge?"
All the fun times we had going into the city and getting lost chasing Mr. Right. First,we would start off the night deciding the destination that we were going to end at, usually David’s Pot Belly. We loved their potato balls. Then, we would have a drink at the Monster and usually by the time we finished the first drink we had guys buying us our second.
There is nothing better than a New York Romance.
A few drinks at the Monster and then buying a fifth and walking down to Christopher Street pier. The romantic banter and warmth of each other’s hands as we would stroll down the avenue, commenting on the unique stores that lines the way. At the pier you could see the boats on the Hudson and the New York skyline was your backdrop. They were beautiful one of a kind moments that I shared with many. We would usually go back to their place and I was sure this was it! By 3:30am I was at David’s Pot Belly with Sammy and Casper, laughing at our night adventure. Sometimes Dominick or Chris would pop in and we would have a Jersey reunion in NYC. Those days were very typical back then.
Sammy usually found at least four boyfriends – sometimes at one time- a night. Casper always found the party and the drugs. OMG he could sniff out a party like a cat sniffs out a mouse. Sometimes we would meet at go back to the party he had found. Back in those days the party started at Feathers and we drank our free drinks and then at about 11pm hit the city, at about 4am hit the after hour clubs and then at about 7am find our way home so we could do it again the next night.
PRIDE week-end was the best and ones that I could never do again. The running question when the three of us get together is how did we survived those days?
We would start drinking at Feathers at about 9:30pm on a Saturday night until about 1am then hit the city at about 4am we would hit the Tiffany diner and then hit the afterhours clubs until 7-8 am. There would usually be a circuit party that kept us dancing until noon when the Parade started. After the Parade was the pier dance and then Monday morning would find us in someone’s apartment looking for a piece of mail so we could find out who we went home with!
It is at this moment that I have to thank Eddie the manager, if it wasn’t for him God knows where I would have ended up. While all this partying was going on Eddie and I were friends also. Eddie was a strict anti drug person and told me he would disown me as a friend. Well, thank-God I valued Eddie’s friendship because I never got caught up in the drug scene. I cannot say I never tried drugs, but I never got into the scene. Besides I didn’t want hot guys, I wanted John, my angel….Not saying he wasn’t hot…See how I always get myself in trouble!
Till Tomorrow, Be kind
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Hank and Oe
So there we were hanging with the cool guys and being introduced to a whole new world! We were in the big times. To me and Casper Feathers was the ultimate in night-life, but Dominick and Chris and John used it was a water hole before hitting the city! OMG!!! NYC in the 80’s was a scary place with the most outrageous adventures waiting to be discovered. Sammy because our bad influence and encouraged us to be bad…very bad! Today Sammy is married and fat…lol. Back then he was a bartender and had an in with the skid row gang. Sammy would find out where they were hanging and we would meet them after the bar closed. Alex in Wonderland was the place to be seen back then. Alex’s had a large dance floor and a second floor with a back room. A back room was a dark room where people would look for love and drop their pants. Sammy tricked me to go into one once. He told me it was the coatroom and they were fixing the light. Like an idiot I stood there, in the dark, with our coats waiting for them to change the light bulb. Oh, that was the beginning of an education I could have done without.
Next to the City bars, Feathers was a church. Hank made sure there were no drugs, no sex and no women. If any of us workers liked someone he banned them from the bar. He loved throwing people out of the bar and watch them beg to come back in. Feathers was the place to be seen back then and he knew it. He would hold it over so many people’s heads. Hank and Oe were a match made in hell. What one didn’t think of the other did. Hank’s was afraid of firing people so he would have Oe do it while he went to Florida. Whenever Hank said he was going to Florida we would all be on edge until he returned. There was always someone gone.
The two of them fought like cats and dogs. They would rip each other apart behind each other’s backs, and then be thick as thieves the next minute. They had been lovers in their youth and where Hank wanted the home life, Oe wanted the teen boys. They were both ex-hair dressers. You could tell when Hank stopped because whenever he would do a wig for a drag queen they ended up looking like Ethel Merman. Oe on the other hand would cut hair at the bar. Hank got jealous when he saw Oe get all these young guys to come to the bar for haircuts so he made me come into the bar and trying to “one up” Oe gave me a perm. I swear that perm is the reason I am bald today! Eddie, who was Hank’s only friend, and I still laugh at that perm. I have pictures of it somewhere. I will post them when I find them.
Oe started dating one of the bartenders, Peter. Peter was a muscle stud with biceps the size of grapefruits. He was underage when he started to work there. Oe found out so Peter became lovers with him so he could get the best bar shifts and keep his job. Oe had competition for Peter’s attention; see no one could love Peter more than Peter loved himself. Oe found out the hard- and expensive- way. When Hank found out he flipped! He could not believe that Oe would lie to him…I am choking too! Anyone who knows them knows how funny that sounds. You would have better luck finding a whore in a convent than finding an honest bone in either of their bodies.
The two of them played us workers like we were chess pieces and eventually the game ends and there is a loser. Some of us may have been sacrificed for the sake of their game, but many of us went on to become winners. I don’t like to remember people with hate so I try to find a good sense why they were in my life. To make sense of them, I thank them for being so hard on the guys because they weeded out a lot of losers.
Till tomorrow Be kind!
Next to the City bars, Feathers was a church. Hank made sure there were no drugs, no sex and no women. If any of us workers liked someone he banned them from the bar. He loved throwing people out of the bar and watch them beg to come back in. Feathers was the place to be seen back then and he knew it. He would hold it over so many people’s heads. Hank and Oe were a match made in hell. What one didn’t think of the other did. Hank’s was afraid of firing people so he would have Oe do it while he went to Florida. Whenever Hank said he was going to Florida we would all be on edge until he returned. There was always someone gone.
The two of them fought like cats and dogs. They would rip each other apart behind each other’s backs, and then be thick as thieves the next minute. They had been lovers in their youth and where Hank wanted the home life, Oe wanted the teen boys. They were both ex-hair dressers. You could tell when Hank stopped because whenever he would do a wig for a drag queen they ended up looking like Ethel Merman. Oe on the other hand would cut hair at the bar. Hank got jealous when he saw Oe get all these young guys to come to the bar for haircuts so he made me come into the bar and trying to “one up” Oe gave me a perm. I swear that perm is the reason I am bald today! Eddie, who was Hank’s only friend, and I still laugh at that perm. I have pictures of it somewhere. I will post them when I find them.
Oe started dating one of the bartenders, Peter. Peter was a muscle stud with biceps the size of grapefruits. He was underage when he started to work there. Oe found out so Peter became lovers with him so he could get the best bar shifts and keep his job. Oe had competition for Peter’s attention; see no one could love Peter more than Peter loved himself. Oe found out the hard- and expensive- way. When Hank found out he flipped! He could not believe that Oe would lie to him…I am choking too! Anyone who knows them knows how funny that sounds. You would have better luck finding a whore in a convent than finding an honest bone in either of their bodies.
The two of them played us workers like we were chess pieces and eventually the game ends and there is a loser. Some of us may have been sacrificed for the sake of their game, but many of us went on to become winners. I don’t like to remember people with hate so I try to find a good sense why they were in my life. To make sense of them, I thank them for being so hard on the guys because they weeded out a lot of losers.
Till tomorrow Be kind!
Monday, January 18, 2010
The different looks
So I chatted with Eddie and the evacuation was the bomb threat not the fire. We used to get a lot of bomb threats when Feathers was young. After a while even the police department ignored them…LOL…imagine ignoring a bomb threat. They stopped once caller ID was invented. Gosh when I started hanging at the bar there weren’t even telephone answering machines never mind VCR’s. I remember it was so chic to have an answering service. We were all actors back then and needed to provide a way for our agents to get in touch with us. “Let’s do lunch. Call my service and leave a good day. Ta-ta.” I would call my service and they would tell me, “Your mom called”, Twenty five dollars a month so that I didn’t miss a call from my mother. I think everyone was an actor back then come to think of it. Being an “actor” legitimized being in the service industry. People would say to us, “What else do you do besides bartend?” As if being a bartender wasn’t enough!
But I am getting ahead of myself, besides the bomb threats we used to have the college initiations. They once threw a naked straight guy, or he had underwear, into the bar. There is the yearly scavenger hunt where they had to get something to prove they were in a gay bar. We used to have matches with “Feathers” on them. I miss those matches. OMG…They were good trick cards. Guys would write their phone numbers on the match covers…They were fun days unless you had a mom who washed your pants without checking the pockets and washed the matchbook and Mr. Right out of my live in the rinse cycle!
Talk about times changing. I remember how excited everyone was when Feathers got a black light. Just a black light on the dance floor made everyone go “AHHHH”. Good ole Eddie, He was so great at trying to get us up-dated on a shoestring budget. He would drive miles to save money on lights and the newest gadgets. All those bar parties and traveling around for discount decorations. I remember the fabric store in Belleville was the best find. Eddie made the whole dance floor look like a circus top! And had clowns and poodles jumping through hoops, it was outrageous! There was also the 13th bar anniversary where he had all “bad luck” charms mixed with good, hanging from the dance floor, a ladder, stuffed black cats, rabbit foots, horse shoes. The “Under the Sea” was another great one! Eddie took chicken wire and sculpted an octopus that hovered over the dance floor. Downstairs there was a makeshift water pond with guppies floating in it. The highlight of the evening was my lobster races. We had the contestants and the goal was to get your lobster over the finish line and win a $10.00 bar tab. No one told me that lobsters die in tap water. Those little crustaceans must have put up a fight- their claws were clipped to each other. We ended up having the race by tying the contestant’s feet together and they had to carry their lobster across the finish line. We used to do a lot of silly games like that, “White Castle Burger Eat Off?” (How many they can eat in two minutes), “Bobbing for Goldfish” (who ever could catch the most goldfish with their mouths), Hula hoops, Hula skirts, my favorite was “How Many Fags Can You Fit In A Refrigerator Box” . We had an empty refrigerator box and we kept stuffing people into it until it popped over…the count was eleven. They were fun times and everyone would come out seven days a week. You were afraid you would miss something if you weren’t there.
Monday nights were a Bible night to be out. I cannot imagine how many parents were kept on life support so their sons could go out to Feathers on Monday night. It was the first and only dollar night at the time. No other club dared to copy us. We were originals and clubs wished they had our following and reputation. We were young and pretty and all had dynamic personalities. The club was spotless. I think the old manager had OCD. We had to clean the glasses and silver behind the bar. There was a cleaning routine every night! Twice a year we had to go into the bar and spring clean. It was those days that we tried to add a little freshness to the place. It didn’t always work out the way we planned it. I remember Dominick sponge painting the walls on the dance floor sea form and white! Eddie has his errors also, like the pumpkin paint down the staircase. The worst was Hank and the glitter! We had a cleaning guy back then, Glen. Glen was a nice guy but had the UGLIEST DOG! This dog looked like a science experiment gone wrong! He had one rule NO GLITTER! Hank didn’t pay attention. He had us paint the walls on the dance floor and then throw glitter on it, bottles and bottles of glitter. That night I watched as all the glitter left the bar on the customer’s backs. And they always came back…
Till tomorrow- be kind!
But I am getting ahead of myself, besides the bomb threats we used to have the college initiations. They once threw a naked straight guy, or he had underwear, into the bar. There is the yearly scavenger hunt where they had to get something to prove they were in a gay bar. We used to have matches with “Feathers” on them. I miss those matches. OMG…They were good trick cards. Guys would write their phone numbers on the match covers…They were fun days unless you had a mom who washed your pants without checking the pockets and washed the matchbook and Mr. Right out of my live in the rinse cycle!
Talk about times changing. I remember how excited everyone was when Feathers got a black light. Just a black light on the dance floor made everyone go “AHHHH”. Good ole Eddie, He was so great at trying to get us up-dated on a shoestring budget. He would drive miles to save money on lights and the newest gadgets. All those bar parties and traveling around for discount decorations. I remember the fabric store in Belleville was the best find. Eddie made the whole dance floor look like a circus top! And had clowns and poodles jumping through hoops, it was outrageous! There was also the 13th bar anniversary where he had all “bad luck” charms mixed with good, hanging from the dance floor, a ladder, stuffed black cats, rabbit foots, horse shoes. The “Under the Sea” was another great one! Eddie took chicken wire and sculpted an octopus that hovered over the dance floor. Downstairs there was a makeshift water pond with guppies floating in it. The highlight of the evening was my lobster races. We had the contestants and the goal was to get your lobster over the finish line and win a $10.00 bar tab. No one told me that lobsters die in tap water. Those little crustaceans must have put up a fight- their claws were clipped to each other. We ended up having the race by tying the contestant’s feet together and they had to carry their lobster across the finish line. We used to do a lot of silly games like that, “White Castle Burger Eat Off?” (How many they can eat in two minutes), “Bobbing for Goldfish” (who ever could catch the most goldfish with their mouths), Hula hoops, Hula skirts, my favorite was “How Many Fags Can You Fit In A Refrigerator Box” . We had an empty refrigerator box and we kept stuffing people into it until it popped over…the count was eleven. They were fun times and everyone would come out seven days a week. You were afraid you would miss something if you weren’t there.
Monday nights were a Bible night to be out. I cannot imagine how many parents were kept on life support so their sons could go out to Feathers on Monday night. It was the first and only dollar night at the time. No other club dared to copy us. We were originals and clubs wished they had our following and reputation. We were young and pretty and all had dynamic personalities. The club was spotless. I think the old manager had OCD. We had to clean the glasses and silver behind the bar. There was a cleaning routine every night! Twice a year we had to go into the bar and spring clean. It was those days that we tried to add a little freshness to the place. It didn’t always work out the way we planned it. I remember Dominick sponge painting the walls on the dance floor sea form and white! Eddie has his errors also, like the pumpkin paint down the staircase. The worst was Hank and the glitter! We had a cleaning guy back then, Glen. Glen was a nice guy but had the UGLIEST DOG! This dog looked like a science experiment gone wrong! He had one rule NO GLITTER! Hank didn’t pay attention. He had us paint the walls on the dance floor and then throw glitter on it, bottles and bottles of glitter. That night I watched as all the glitter left the bar on the customer’s backs. And they always came back…
Till tomorrow- be kind!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Antonio Presents...
Last night I stepped back twenty years at Feathers. From the moment I started looking for white jeans I knew something big was going to happen. Antonio Cedeno Presents Feathers White Winter Party was a humongous success on so many levels. This blog is for Tony and the staff and all the hard work they put out to make last night a memory in many people’s heart.
Many years ago Hank, the manager, would have a team of workers come up with ideas for parties and execute them. The parties were brilliant at the beginning as I had previously mentioned, the jungle party, the USO party was an idea that Marty the bartender came up with. All the bartenders were in military uniforms and the show was a USO show hosted by the Andrew Sisters and guest star, Kate Smith. The dance floor was turned into a MASH tent and the music reflected the era and the current era. There was the Beach Party, the 50’s sock hop, Under the Sea, and so many more. As the years went on the parties got silly and the employee’s lost interest, but Eddie was always there to try and save a theme with his creative decorations. I think the bottom was the “Pumps and Boa” party. The assistant manager at the time went to the thrift store and bought 100 pairs of pumps and threw them on the dance floor.
As the years went on the newer employee’s lost their interest in the bar and put their interest in after hour’s club. Eddie was the only one holding on to the hope that the popular “bar parties” would return. Last night I saw the “old” Eddie in all his joy watching his decorative talents being appreciated and him facing the night with the same excitement that a child experiences the night before Christmas. Eddie puts his heart and soul into that club.
I remember when he was giving the job as manager. We were very close friends at that time and he had so many plans of opening his own dessert café. He was saving and gathering ideas. Hank was fired, for reasons we will discuss later, and the owner had a sit down with Eddie about the future of the club. The owner was going to close the club if Eddie didn’t manage the place- all of us workers would have been out of work. It was the day before Thanksgiving- the busiest bar night-Eddie had a tough choice. If he took the management position, the café would remain a dream. Also, all his friends would be out of work a month before Christmas. Eddie took on the management and Feathers remained an important part of gay history. His café is still a dream, one I am sure he will fulfill-successfully!
Last night also had Tony the bartender step up and show his skills at promoting and leadership. He planned and used every opportunity to guarantee a success. He hired dancers, performers and went around making sure everyone’s spirits were up. He stood at the door greeting everyone and shared smiles with customers and fellow employees alike. He had Dee-Jay’s on both floors and each Dee-Jay performed on the high energy the customers were releasing. John Rizzo played the best of the best. You didn’t want to leave the dance floor. Just as you did another song came on that had you back on the floor. Lady Tita played like she was on fire. Comments like, “I have been trying to get upstairs for the past hour, but the music is just too good down here” were being spoken by many. I am still amazed at seeing security that actually looks like security and not bus stop vagrants sleeping in a corner. (That comment also goes to Eddie’s big heart)
I, also, saw many of the employee’s that weren’t working there to support their co-worker and club. Hank had a rule that we had to be at every party whether we were working or not. We had to support Feathers and be there even on our nights off. The workers became promoters. Hank’s thinking was that the bartenders could convince their friends to come to Feathers and not another club. They mingled with customers that they may not have time to chat with when they are behind the bar. Customers have a chance to laugh with the workers that are out of reach for them. They see the workers as humans and they like that. Feathers was never about being the best polished club, or the trendiest- it was always about the spirit.
Last night, for the first time in many years the spirit returned. . There was a moment of sadness for me when I realized that this was the first successful party that I wasn’t a party of. Now, I am not implying that all the parties the club has throw has been bad, it’s just that last night’s party had spirit and smiles and so often those were missing.
Till Tomorrow- Be kind
Many years ago Hank, the manager, would have a team of workers come up with ideas for parties and execute them. The parties were brilliant at the beginning as I had previously mentioned, the jungle party, the USO party was an idea that Marty the bartender came up with. All the bartenders were in military uniforms and the show was a USO show hosted by the Andrew Sisters and guest star, Kate Smith. The dance floor was turned into a MASH tent and the music reflected the era and the current era. There was the Beach Party, the 50’s sock hop, Under the Sea, and so many more. As the years went on the parties got silly and the employee’s lost interest, but Eddie was always there to try and save a theme with his creative decorations. I think the bottom was the “Pumps and Boa” party. The assistant manager at the time went to the thrift store and bought 100 pairs of pumps and threw them on the dance floor.
As the years went on the newer employee’s lost their interest in the bar and put their interest in after hour’s club. Eddie was the only one holding on to the hope that the popular “bar parties” would return. Last night I saw the “old” Eddie in all his joy watching his decorative talents being appreciated and him facing the night with the same excitement that a child experiences the night before Christmas. Eddie puts his heart and soul into that club.
I remember when he was giving the job as manager. We were very close friends at that time and he had so many plans of opening his own dessert café. He was saving and gathering ideas. Hank was fired, for reasons we will discuss later, and the owner had a sit down with Eddie about the future of the club. The owner was going to close the club if Eddie didn’t manage the place- all of us workers would have been out of work. It was the day before Thanksgiving- the busiest bar night-Eddie had a tough choice. If he took the management position, the café would remain a dream. Also, all his friends would be out of work a month before Christmas. Eddie took on the management and Feathers remained an important part of gay history. His café is still a dream, one I am sure he will fulfill-successfully!
Last night also had Tony the bartender step up and show his skills at promoting and leadership. He planned and used every opportunity to guarantee a success. He hired dancers, performers and went around making sure everyone’s spirits were up. He stood at the door greeting everyone and shared smiles with customers and fellow employees alike. He had Dee-Jay’s on both floors and each Dee-Jay performed on the high energy the customers were releasing. John Rizzo played the best of the best. You didn’t want to leave the dance floor. Just as you did another song came on that had you back on the floor. Lady Tita played like she was on fire. Comments like, “I have been trying to get upstairs for the past hour, but the music is just too good down here” were being spoken by many. I am still amazed at seeing security that actually looks like security and not bus stop vagrants sleeping in a corner. (That comment also goes to Eddie’s big heart)
I, also, saw many of the employee’s that weren’t working there to support their co-worker and club. Hank had a rule that we had to be at every party whether we were working or not. We had to support Feathers and be there even on our nights off. The workers became promoters. Hank’s thinking was that the bartenders could convince their friends to come to Feathers and not another club. They mingled with customers that they may not have time to chat with when they are behind the bar. Customers have a chance to laugh with the workers that are out of reach for them. They see the workers as humans and they like that. Feathers was never about being the best polished club, or the trendiest- it was always about the spirit.
Last night, for the first time in many years the spirit returned. . There was a moment of sadness for me when I realized that this was the first successful party that I wasn’t a party of. Now, I am not implying that all the parties the club has throw has been bad, it’s just that last night’s party had spirit and smiles and so often those were missing.
Till Tomorrow- Be kind
Saturday, January 16, 2010
and on...
Meanwhile, on the bar circuit my popularity was growing. Terry stayed at the Jersey shore and tried to break into the drag circuit down there.I came back to Feathers and told Hank my sad story of living in a laundry mat. Hank felt sorry for me and actually gave me pay to stamp hands and started asking me to do favors. Looking back, I realize that is when I should have gotten my head examined. I would beg Hank to let me do him favors, “Oh, let me get the liquor from the liquor cabinet.” “Please let me bring the ten cases of beer to the bars.” “I’ll scrub the dance floor with a tooth brush.” I was going to do whatever it took to have a place in Feathers…Be careful what you wish for.
“Where’s Terry?” “Where’s Terry?” This annoying queen would hunt me down every night looking for Terry….My pal Kenny Casper. We laugh about it now. He would never say “Hi how are you? Where is Terry? “-Remember Kenny is really Casper and is underage, but we don’t know it yet. All we know is that he is a LOUD, annoyingly nice guy who is just as determined to be a part of Feathers as I am. I was at Sammy’s bar (Big bar upstairs) when I finally confront him about rude he is to me and he laughs in my face. In a straight bar there would be a brawl or something, in a gay bar what do you do? I looked at him puzzled when he says, “I am a rude bitch. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” I think that moment bonded us because twenty four years later we still laugh and Casper is still loud and rude and Sammy still mediates us.
With Terry gone Kenny Casper and I started hanging out more and going to the diner. We would take a table near the “skid row” group and hope that one of them would look in our direction, they never did. Mind you we weren’t discreet with what we were doing. If one of them went into the bathroom we followed. Kenny Casper would yell to Annie, our waitress, what are they eating over there, at that table. Over the months they warmed up to us and we were allowed to hang in the “skid row” corner. I am laughing remembering how I would be talking to Steven and Michael and then excuse myself so I could hang at skid row with my friends. They knew they weren’t allowed in that corner of the bar. Back then you could smoke in a bar and that corner had all the smokers. Smoking really was a part of the scene back then. Casper was forever asking someone to “Hold my ciggie’s while I dance.” Meanwhile, I would be going shot for shot with Dominick at the bar. Dominick was like the head of the skid row group. If you could out drink him you were in, being I didn’t drive Casper threw me as the one to go shot for shot. Casper was the dancer and could grab everyone’s attention when he danced, but remember skid row didn’t want the attention.
I’m not quite sure how it happened, but we got in and Dominick became one of my best friends and Casper became best friends with Johnny. Life was looking great for us. We were friends with the skid row gang -sitting with them in the diner; we were friends with the bartenders and management. It was during this time that Feathers had its first fire. It was the back wall of the bar and the place was evacuated. We all had to go to Charlie’s in East Orange. It was an ok bar, but not safe. Someone stole my coat from the car! It was there I met Randy. Randy built log cabins for a living. We slow danced to Air Supple “Two Less Lonely People in the World.” It was one of those romantic moments, but he could have been a forever. We kept in touch, but the fact I didn’t drive put an end to our romance. He was going to build me a cabin in the woods. It was a nice dream, but my reality was bar life and being a bar star!
My favorite part of the bar was the side door exits, they have the wrought iron platforms and we would sit on them and get air, actually it still is. One night I went out and I saw this HUGE Brooke Shields running across the street. She was so big she looked like a Macy’s Balloon Float from afar. That night I was introduced to the parking lot kids. The parking lot kids were a group of kids that were underage and couldn’t get into the bar. The leader of the parking lot kids was Tony- the giant Brooke Shields. They drove around in Barbara’s Subaru.
Till tomorrow Be kind
“Where’s Terry?” “Where’s Terry?” This annoying queen would hunt me down every night looking for Terry….My pal Kenny Casper. We laugh about it now. He would never say “Hi how are you? Where is Terry? “-Remember Kenny is really Casper and is underage, but we don’t know it yet. All we know is that he is a LOUD, annoyingly nice guy who is just as determined to be a part of Feathers as I am. I was at Sammy’s bar (Big bar upstairs) when I finally confront him about rude he is to me and he laughs in my face. In a straight bar there would be a brawl or something, in a gay bar what do you do? I looked at him puzzled when he says, “I am a rude bitch. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” I think that moment bonded us because twenty four years later we still laugh and Casper is still loud and rude and Sammy still mediates us.
With Terry gone Kenny Casper and I started hanging out more and going to the diner. We would take a table near the “skid row” group and hope that one of them would look in our direction, they never did. Mind you we weren’t discreet with what we were doing. If one of them went into the bathroom we followed. Kenny Casper would yell to Annie, our waitress, what are they eating over there, at that table. Over the months they warmed up to us and we were allowed to hang in the “skid row” corner. I am laughing remembering how I would be talking to Steven and Michael and then excuse myself so I could hang at skid row with my friends. They knew they weren’t allowed in that corner of the bar. Back then you could smoke in a bar and that corner had all the smokers. Smoking really was a part of the scene back then. Casper was forever asking someone to “Hold my ciggie’s while I dance.” Meanwhile, I would be going shot for shot with Dominick at the bar. Dominick was like the head of the skid row group. If you could out drink him you were in, being I didn’t drive Casper threw me as the one to go shot for shot. Casper was the dancer and could grab everyone’s attention when he danced, but remember skid row didn’t want the attention.
I’m not quite sure how it happened, but we got in and Dominick became one of my best friends and Casper became best friends with Johnny. Life was looking great for us. We were friends with the skid row gang -sitting with them in the diner; we were friends with the bartenders and management. It was during this time that Feathers had its first fire. It was the back wall of the bar and the place was evacuated. We all had to go to Charlie’s in East Orange. It was an ok bar, but not safe. Someone stole my coat from the car! It was there I met Randy. Randy built log cabins for a living. We slow danced to Air Supple “Two Less Lonely People in the World.” It was one of those romantic moments, but he could have been a forever. We kept in touch, but the fact I didn’t drive put an end to our romance. He was going to build me a cabin in the woods. It was a nice dream, but my reality was bar life and being a bar star!
My favorite part of the bar was the side door exits, they have the wrought iron platforms and we would sit on them and get air, actually it still is. One night I went out and I saw this HUGE Brooke Shields running across the street. She was so big she looked like a Macy’s Balloon Float from afar. That night I was introduced to the parking lot kids. The parking lot kids were a group of kids that were underage and couldn’t get into the bar. The leader of the parking lot kids was Tony- the giant Brooke Shields. They drove around in Barbara’s Subaru.
Till tomorrow Be kind
Friday, January 15, 2010
My Johnny Angel 2
In the gay world everyone wants to be a star in everyone else’s life. There is no such thing as “co-stars”. They don’t give advice, they plan your moves. If you don’t listen to them- “You got what you deserved!” So much for the sympathetic warm shoulder. As I look back on my romance with Johnny I have to admit there were signs that it wasn’t going to work. His father died on my birthday, he hated to smile, he was in love with someone else, Victor. Victor, Victor, Victor.
Flashback, Victor grew up on the street next to mine. He was a fat little fag, as opposed to me being a skinny one. He was the only one that I could make fun of because his mouth was always to full of candy to make fun back at me. When I started hanging at the bar I kept hearing about this Victor who was a GOD. Who was he? I finally met him- fat Victor, who was now muscle man Victor. Talk about revenge biting you in the ass. On top of that John was madly in love with Victor and Victor had moved on. It was beneath Victor to hang at Feathers he only hung in NYC, where the “cool” model type gays hung out. In its day Feathers housed the elite, but time was taking its toll on the club and so was AIDS. If you were going to die from love, it was going to be in the arms of someone hot and rich, not a MACY’S salesperson who can only offer you a 20% off discount .
Norman taught me that.
Norman was my first “old” man gay. He was ten years older than me and had all the wisdom a novice wanna-be needed. Norman was dating this old man Walter. It is quite a funny story. Norman worked in a senior home and Walter fell in love with Norman. Norman took him out of the home. “I’d rather see him paid my mortgage that the home. Anyway Walter was in his 70’s and loved bingo, so Norman would drop Walter off at Bingo and then come to the club and party. He would leave the bar and pick Walter up and leave him in the car while he came back in and continued to party. I couldn’t believe he left Walter in the car! “What’s wrong? I left the window open a crack.” Norman would answer honestly. One day Walters kids went to see him at the home and found out Norman took him out. Norman didn’t even know he had kids! Walter started to say that Norman kidnapped him and made him to sex things! The kids didn’t press charges, but Norman lost his job. Norman did teach me a very important lesson, always ask for jewelry for your birthday. Although Walter was gone he had bought Norman many pieces of jewelry and Norman was able to sell it for a good profit.
I was learning all too well the shady side of the life style and all I wanted was innocent side of life. I wanted to be gay in a straight world. I wanted one person to love. To understand the place I was coming from you have to understand the times. Everyone in my straight world was finding romance. I used to sit up with my sister and we would chat into the late hours watching MGM musicals, or Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies. Then one night I’m watching them alone because she has a boyfriend. I don’t have one and I can’t talk about not having one because it has to be a secret. I see Judy Garland and Gene Kelly and I close my eyes and want that kind if love. I want the sad song love story with a happy ending. When I made that wish God was DEFINITELY listening. I got my sad love story, but not so fast.
After my encounter with my hope, my angel John had to have emergency surgery. I drank myself silly when I found out that he died on the operating table. “He died without knowing that I existed. That I loved him!” It wasn’t until last call that Sammy the bartender told me that he came back. I was so glad Sammy gave me a ride home that night because all my liquor ended up on his car seats. I guess I wasn’t very faithful back then because it was a while before I saw him again. When I did see him again the torch song was lit. As I look back I giggle at what an idiot I was with my first love. See, John was the first guy I liked that was gay and I could actually stand a chance of loving me back. My only problem with John was that every time he said hello to me I would get so nervous that I would have to run off to the bathroom and throw up. Not a great way to start a relationship, but I had time. AIDS was out and I was determined that when John and I made love he would not have to worry about getting a blood test. I was going to stay celibate for him, my Johnny Angel-the man who made me throw up. In hindsight he was an angel, he kept me safe at a time when most were running around getting blood test.
Till tomorrow Be kind
Flashback, Victor grew up on the street next to mine. He was a fat little fag, as opposed to me being a skinny one. He was the only one that I could make fun of because his mouth was always to full of candy to make fun back at me. When I started hanging at the bar I kept hearing about this Victor who was a GOD. Who was he? I finally met him- fat Victor, who was now muscle man Victor. Talk about revenge biting you in the ass. On top of that John was madly in love with Victor and Victor had moved on. It was beneath Victor to hang at Feathers he only hung in NYC, where the “cool” model type gays hung out. In its day Feathers housed the elite, but time was taking its toll on the club and so was AIDS. If you were going to die from love, it was going to be in the arms of someone hot and rich, not a MACY’S salesperson who can only offer you a 20% off discount .
Norman taught me that.
Norman was my first “old” man gay. He was ten years older than me and had all the wisdom a novice wanna-be needed. Norman was dating this old man Walter. It is quite a funny story. Norman worked in a senior home and Walter fell in love with Norman. Norman took him out of the home. “I’d rather see him paid my mortgage that the home. Anyway Walter was in his 70’s and loved bingo, so Norman would drop Walter off at Bingo and then come to the club and party. He would leave the bar and pick Walter up and leave him in the car while he came back in and continued to party. I couldn’t believe he left Walter in the car! “What’s wrong? I left the window open a crack.” Norman would answer honestly. One day Walters kids went to see him at the home and found out Norman took him out. Norman didn’t even know he had kids! Walter started to say that Norman kidnapped him and made him to sex things! The kids didn’t press charges, but Norman lost his job. Norman did teach me a very important lesson, always ask for jewelry for your birthday. Although Walter was gone he had bought Norman many pieces of jewelry and Norman was able to sell it for a good profit.
I was learning all too well the shady side of the life style and all I wanted was innocent side of life. I wanted to be gay in a straight world. I wanted one person to love. To understand the place I was coming from you have to understand the times. Everyone in my straight world was finding romance. I used to sit up with my sister and we would chat into the late hours watching MGM musicals, or Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies. Then one night I’m watching them alone because she has a boyfriend. I don’t have one and I can’t talk about not having one because it has to be a secret. I see Judy Garland and Gene Kelly and I close my eyes and want that kind if love. I want the sad song love story with a happy ending. When I made that wish God was DEFINITELY listening. I got my sad love story, but not so fast.
After my encounter with my hope, my angel John had to have emergency surgery. I drank myself silly when I found out that he died on the operating table. “He died without knowing that I existed. That I loved him!” It wasn’t until last call that Sammy the bartender told me that he came back. I was so glad Sammy gave me a ride home that night because all my liquor ended up on his car seats. I guess I wasn’t very faithful back then because it was a while before I saw him again. When I did see him again the torch song was lit. As I look back I giggle at what an idiot I was with my first love. See, John was the first guy I liked that was gay and I could actually stand a chance of loving me back. My only problem with John was that every time he said hello to me I would get so nervous that I would have to run off to the bathroom and throw up. Not a great way to start a relationship, but I had time. AIDS was out and I was determined that when John and I made love he would not have to worry about getting a blood test. I was going to stay celibate for him, my Johnny Angel-the man who made me throw up. In hindsight he was an angel, he kept me safe at a time when most were running around getting blood test.
Till tomorrow Be kind
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Johnny Angel
I have an old sweater that is so disgusting that anyone who saw it would use tongs to throw it away, but it is so comfortable and soft. It fits my body as well as my moods. It knows me and I always feel safe when I wear it. It’s my home-no matter where I am I put it on and I am home. When I saw Johnny I saw an old sweater. I felt home with him, as long as I could see him I knew the world was right. On nights when he wasn’t at the bar life didn’t seem right, my emotions were numb and I would just walk through the night waiting for sleep to find me. Sometimes he would come late and I would just wake up and run to see him. I remember my sisters wedding got in the way of going to Fire Island with John. He invited Dawn and myself and a few others, we had to say no because it was my sisters wedding, trust me I did debate whether or not I wanted to go to the wedding or not.
When you’re gay, it’s not that you don’t like your family, but you always have to explain or hide. In Feathers there was no hiding. We were with people who knew what we felt and we never had to explain. There was no judgment or looks, just fun and people who would cut you down to size with one lash of their tongue. I held my own, not that I wanted to-I just had to. I had a vision of John playing the piano (he had a white baby grand) while I wrapped Christmas presents. His vision was more Trojan ribbed and Vaseline.
John was from the “old school”, he was an older man and I was in awe. He was one of the original bartenders. He worked with Trixie, Rainwater, Mason and Brian P. They were GOD bartenders! OMG even as I sit here typing I am amazed that I was in their presents, never mind their equals. Everyone was just so young and pretty back then.
There was something so regal about bartending at Feathers.
Hank had great taste in choosing men. Brian was Italian Stallion all the way- not in my imagination could I envision a more handsome man than he. He would just snap his gum and wink-“What’ll ya have babe?” BUTTER! Mason was a chiseled Brooklyn beauty. Rumor was that he was dating Robert Reed, the father from “the Brady Bunch”. He left bartending to go to LA. Rainwater was a stud in his day, but ended up staying too long at the fair. He’s face showed the weathering of a falling star, where his registers used to out number his co-workers, now they struggled to keep from making a fool out of him. Phillip and li’l Joey were the bar boy toys, cute little stuffing of loving.
Then there was Trixie. Trixie was a character that all bars need. Trixie was a party whore! I first saw Trixie outside the bar sitting in a puddle of pee in an after hour’s night club. He looked up at me-high as a kite- and demanded to know if I was his daughter! I just laughed as he sat in the pee wearing one of his oversize “Maude” style shirts with dime store beads around his neck. In the gay world old gay queens take on the new ones as their daughters. I was with Kenny Casper and we just laughed. Casper agreed to be his daughter to which Casper ended up having to “Buy your mother a drink.”
Then there was John, My Johnny Angel, who looked like a young Michael Landon. I swore my grandmother, who had passed away a few years earlier had sent him to take care of me. She loved “Bonanza” and Michael Landon’s character, Little Joe. I lied about the first time I saw him. I first met him a few months earlier when I ordered a screwdriver from him. I stood shocked by his presence, “could such a handsome guy really be alive and in front of me?!” “You gonna stare or order?” he barked in a sound that was music to my ears. “A screwdriver…light..please.” I ordered from my future. He threw the drink at me and I gave him my ten dollar bill. I took a snip and realized that screwdrivers do not have foam, he forgot to rinse my glass and it still had bar soap in it. When he came back with my change I stopped him for a moment…”Excuse me…”I nervously twitched, I twitch when I am nervous. “What do you want, I’m busy ?” “I think you left some soap in my drink.” “So does that mean you’re not going to tip me?” I was kinda confused when Hank came over and asked if there was a problem. I played it off, “No, no. No problem. I was just complimenting the bartender on a great drink! Here take a five. “as I drank the disgusting soapy drink made by my angel. As I left the bar I over heard him question if the drink was so good why didn’t I tip more.
So was the start of the greatest love story that never was…
Till Tomorrow, be kind
When you’re gay, it’s not that you don’t like your family, but you always have to explain or hide. In Feathers there was no hiding. We were with people who knew what we felt and we never had to explain. There was no judgment or looks, just fun and people who would cut you down to size with one lash of their tongue. I held my own, not that I wanted to-I just had to. I had a vision of John playing the piano (he had a white baby grand) while I wrapped Christmas presents. His vision was more Trojan ribbed and Vaseline.
John was from the “old school”, he was an older man and I was in awe. He was one of the original bartenders. He worked with Trixie, Rainwater, Mason and Brian P. They were GOD bartenders! OMG even as I sit here typing I am amazed that I was in their presents, never mind their equals. Everyone was just so young and pretty back then.
There was something so regal about bartending at Feathers.
Hank had great taste in choosing men. Brian was Italian Stallion all the way- not in my imagination could I envision a more handsome man than he. He would just snap his gum and wink-“What’ll ya have babe?” BUTTER! Mason was a chiseled Brooklyn beauty. Rumor was that he was dating Robert Reed, the father from “the Brady Bunch”. He left bartending to go to LA. Rainwater was a stud in his day, but ended up staying too long at the fair. He’s face showed the weathering of a falling star, where his registers used to out number his co-workers, now they struggled to keep from making a fool out of him. Phillip and li’l Joey were the bar boy toys, cute little stuffing of loving.
Then there was Trixie. Trixie was a character that all bars need. Trixie was a party whore! I first saw Trixie outside the bar sitting in a puddle of pee in an after hour’s night club. He looked up at me-high as a kite- and demanded to know if I was his daughter! I just laughed as he sat in the pee wearing one of his oversize “Maude” style shirts with dime store beads around his neck. In the gay world old gay queens take on the new ones as their daughters. I was with Kenny Casper and we just laughed. Casper agreed to be his daughter to which Casper ended up having to “Buy your mother a drink.”
Then there was John, My Johnny Angel, who looked like a young Michael Landon. I swore my grandmother, who had passed away a few years earlier had sent him to take care of me. She loved “Bonanza” and Michael Landon’s character, Little Joe. I lied about the first time I saw him. I first met him a few months earlier when I ordered a screwdriver from him. I stood shocked by his presence, “could such a handsome guy really be alive and in front of me?!” “You gonna stare or order?” he barked in a sound that was music to my ears. “A screwdriver…light..please.” I ordered from my future. He threw the drink at me and I gave him my ten dollar bill. I took a snip and realized that screwdrivers do not have foam, he forgot to rinse my glass and it still had bar soap in it. When he came back with my change I stopped him for a moment…”Excuse me…”I nervously twitched, I twitch when I am nervous. “What do you want, I’m busy ?” “I think you left some soap in my drink.” “So does that mean you’re not going to tip me?” I was kinda confused when Hank came over and asked if there was a problem. I played it off, “No, no. No problem. I was just complimenting the bartender on a great drink! Here take a five. “as I drank the disgusting soapy drink made by my angel. As I left the bar I over heard him question if the drink was so good why didn’t I tip more.
So was the start of the greatest love story that never was…
Till Tomorrow, be kind
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Story Continues
Terry and I bonded after realizing we had so much in common; neither one of us drove, we both lived at home and we wanted to be a part of Feathers. We were hungry for the attention others were getting, but how? Terry always had a plan; I always had a conscience sometimes they didn’t blend. We stayed close to Steven and Michael because they had a car. I didn’t feel comfortable using them that way. There was a list of people Terry used, but in fairness I don’t think Terry saw it as using, he just felt people should do things for him-entitled. Funny, I remember when I was friends with Terry I had so many emotions and feelings about Terry, but as I sit here and remember it’s hard to place him in my life. We were close; I remember he hooked up with this fag hag who had a house down the shore. We had no money so he would shop-lift and return it for cash. The hag’s parents came down and threw us out. We had to sleep in a 24 hour laundry mat. We slept on top of the dryers. I had a few quarters to put in them for heat. It wasn’t a pretty time. The Hag’s parents wouldn’t let her drive us home so we had to beg for change to take a bus back to NYC and then home. I just remember being happy to be back home at the bar.
There were so many characters at the bar besides the one’s I mentioned there was Sammy the bartender. My first meeting with Sammy was priceless. I had asked Sammy for change to buy cigarettes; he slipped me his tip money and told me he was too tired to walk to his register to make change. I thought that was so terrific that someone would just give me $2.50! We became fast friends, as did Kenny Casper and I. Actually his name is Casper, but his cousin Kenny was in jail and Casper was underage, so he swiped his cousins ID got into the bar underage. When you talk to him about it he explains how he statically planned it. He became friends with the manager, Hank and the bartenders, this way no one would question him or his age, then he made friends with security-in case he had to give back his ID. So funny he was. Actually I think it was Terry who snitched on him, but that comes later. Right now, I am just laying out all the different personalities and setting the mood so you can come along for the ride into the past.
As Terry and I got comfortable in the bar, we also started to hang with different crowds. I was more interested in a career as a bartender. They were making $400-500 a night. I wanted that life. Terry was into the performer’s life. He was dying to be a drag star! Casper was dying to be friends with Terry. Terry and Casper had “out there” fashion taste. My mind is foggy as I think back, but I remember spandex and animal print out-fits. OMG there was this guy who bought me electric blue spandex pants! And I wore them! I thought I was the hottest thing, and in those times I probably was. Between the Electric blue spandex pants, the shirt Terry made for me out of his left over pant legs-long story- and my copper color hair because my friend Kenny wanted to be a hair dresser and used me as his model for coloring. Needless to say he didn’t get in.
Terry’s fashion disaster: Terry would cut the legs off his pants so he could have “hot pants” for guys. Never one to waste anything, Terry would open up the cut off pant pieces and sew them together and create a shirt. Yes, I was seen in public wearing these things. That wasn’t even the most embarrassing thing he made me do. He entered a drag contest and wanted to win the top prize-one hundred dollars and a show of your own. Terry was sure he would win, only one other contestant who was half in the bag. Well, the place was going to call the contest off if they didn’t get another contestant. Terry signed me up. “But, Terry, I don’t perform.” “You’ll be fabulous Darling.” Terry assured me. “But Terry I don’t want to.” “But Darling, if I win I’ll give you the money.” “What am I wearing?” A hundred dollars was a lot back then. Needless to say Terry did not have an extra wig, or a dress, or a song. The DJ was allowed to pick a song for me. The manager had a grass skirt from a theme party the week before. Terry burned up the floor with Tina Turner, before her come-back in the 80’s. The other contestant threw up half way through his number and I got to move my lips to “I Am Woman”. Could I fall any lower? I learned very early in my gay life that shame was over rated. The show was a “gong show” type of show. The judges could gong you off. I just praying they would gong me-PLEASE! But those masochist just relished the sight of this little Twinkie moving his lips to “I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman”
Little did they know that within a year that song-my revenge- would catapult me into the most successful performer to hit the stage, but first I had to endure Terry’s moments? He got his show and left Feathers to be a star at the new place, I believe it was Follies, or a club down the shore. But I was back at the bar and the embarrassment had spread…What was the joke? What are the three ways spread gossip? Telephone, telegraph, tela fag. Hank heard that I bombed and told me he would help me get even. I didn’t care. I had never been out on a Tuesday and I noticed a bartender playing “Donkey Kong” He was a dream waiting to be lived. I grabbed Sammy and asked who he was…”John” he answered as he went upstairs. “John” I repeated as the song “Johnny Angel” played on the jukebox.
“Johnny Angel, you’re an angel to me”
Till tomorrow, be kind
There were so many characters at the bar besides the one’s I mentioned there was Sammy the bartender. My first meeting with Sammy was priceless. I had asked Sammy for change to buy cigarettes; he slipped me his tip money and told me he was too tired to walk to his register to make change. I thought that was so terrific that someone would just give me $2.50! We became fast friends, as did Kenny Casper and I. Actually his name is Casper, but his cousin Kenny was in jail and Casper was underage, so he swiped his cousins ID got into the bar underage. When you talk to him about it he explains how he statically planned it. He became friends with the manager, Hank and the bartenders, this way no one would question him or his age, then he made friends with security-in case he had to give back his ID. So funny he was. Actually I think it was Terry who snitched on him, but that comes later. Right now, I am just laying out all the different personalities and setting the mood so you can come along for the ride into the past.
As Terry and I got comfortable in the bar, we also started to hang with different crowds. I was more interested in a career as a bartender. They were making $400-500 a night. I wanted that life. Terry was into the performer’s life. He was dying to be a drag star! Casper was dying to be friends with Terry. Terry and Casper had “out there” fashion taste. My mind is foggy as I think back, but I remember spandex and animal print out-fits. OMG there was this guy who bought me electric blue spandex pants! And I wore them! I thought I was the hottest thing, and in those times I probably was. Between the Electric blue spandex pants, the shirt Terry made for me out of his left over pant legs-long story- and my copper color hair because my friend Kenny wanted to be a hair dresser and used me as his model for coloring. Needless to say he didn’t get in.
Terry’s fashion disaster: Terry would cut the legs off his pants so he could have “hot pants” for guys. Never one to waste anything, Terry would open up the cut off pant pieces and sew them together and create a shirt. Yes, I was seen in public wearing these things. That wasn’t even the most embarrassing thing he made me do. He entered a drag contest and wanted to win the top prize-one hundred dollars and a show of your own. Terry was sure he would win, only one other contestant who was half in the bag. Well, the place was going to call the contest off if they didn’t get another contestant. Terry signed me up. “But, Terry, I don’t perform.” “You’ll be fabulous Darling.” Terry assured me. “But Terry I don’t want to.” “But Darling, if I win I’ll give you the money.” “What am I wearing?” A hundred dollars was a lot back then. Needless to say Terry did not have an extra wig, or a dress, or a song. The DJ was allowed to pick a song for me. The manager had a grass skirt from a theme party the week before. Terry burned up the floor with Tina Turner, before her come-back in the 80’s. The other contestant threw up half way through his number and I got to move my lips to “I Am Woman”. Could I fall any lower? I learned very early in my gay life that shame was over rated. The show was a “gong show” type of show. The judges could gong you off. I just praying they would gong me-PLEASE! But those masochist just relished the sight of this little Twinkie moving his lips to “I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman”
Little did they know that within a year that song-my revenge- would catapult me into the most successful performer to hit the stage, but first I had to endure Terry’s moments? He got his show and left Feathers to be a star at the new place, I believe it was Follies, or a club down the shore. But I was back at the bar and the embarrassment had spread…What was the joke? What are the three ways spread gossip? Telephone, telegraph, tela fag. Hank heard that I bombed and told me he would help me get even. I didn’t care. I had never been out on a Tuesday and I noticed a bartender playing “Donkey Kong” He was a dream waiting to be lived. I grabbed Sammy and asked who he was…”John” he answered as he went upstairs. “John” I repeated as the song “Johnny Angel” played on the jukebox.
“Johnny Angel, you’re an angel to me”
Till tomorrow, be kind
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
AIDS 2
I hear so many people complain about Feathers and whine about how it looks and the people. They forget, Feather brought so many good friends together and couples and lives. AIDS may have made us alien to our family and the straight world, but it made us closer to each other. The reality of the unknown disease was with us every day. We could not hide from it, just like we could not hide from who we were. We were disowned by our own family, but had our Feathers family. Not everyone was protected or a part of the family.I remember being so relieved to find out you couldn’t get it from kissing-GOD I missed kissing! But you weren’t just kissing the man of your dreams; you were kissing everyone he ever kissed. It was such a dark period in all our lives- So many friends gone, so many memories never to be made. For the survivors every night was a moment embedded in our hearts.
The beginning stages of AIDS were the most frightening no one knew anything about it not even the doctors. There were no such things as computers, or cell phones. The only medical research at the time was for diseases that had telethons. When it became news worthy they would broadcast that only homosexuals carried the deadly disease- imagine coming out proud with that kind of reputation. Many had no choice, look at Rock Hudson, the actor. He was closeted his whole career but could not hide his sexual preference when he got the disease. I remember how no one wanted to know you if you had signs of the disease. Hank wouldn’t let people in the bar when he found out they were infected. He actually had us throw the glasses away when they would leave the bar. He made us serve in plastic. It was a night-mare. Oe would point at people and make rude insinuations; people hung on his words because he was the assistant manager.
The first person I knew that stands out was Frank Vassi. Frank was a middle-aged hair dresser with flaming taste and personality. He always had his Louis V. clutch and enough drugs for the whole bar to enjoy. He would invite me and Kenny Casper to go to the diner and actually helped us become accepted in the “cool” group I had previously mentioned. Frank was a one-line joker who brighten up the night and the most serious moments with humor. Actually the last time I saw him he gave me the smile that I will hold in my heart forever- There was a nasty bartender that worked there (I won’t mention names) and was always mean to Frank. Frank was in the last stages of the disease and wanted one more night at Feathers. We all came out and I had explained the situation to the nasty bartender. I asked him to be nice to Frank. Well he was nice and the night was a huge success. As Frank was leaving that the bar that night I overheard him comment to the one who drove him to the bar, “I don’t remember that bartender being nice.” Well the bartender heard the comment and shot back a rude remark to which Frank responded, “Thank God he’s still a bastard I thought the disease made me forget it!”
The next was Chris M., who looked like a young Clark Gable, was the kindest and sweetest man I ever met. He had that rugged look and a smile that could melt iron. If it was your birthday and you had no one to hold you and make love to you, Chris would be your Romeo. He made so many people happy until AIDS came and so many people were angry. Chris didn’t know- none of us did. These guys were throwing themselves at him and then they blamed him and called him a killer. He never asked them to sleep with him, they threw themselves at him. He even went and told people he was infected. I think I was the only one who cried when he died.
It really was like “The Poseidon Adventure”, our world was turned upside down and we were all scattering around to find the tree to climb to safety. It was sad to watch people turn on each other; Friends accusing friends of being infected. People were so mean, they would say things like-“Did you lose weight?” or “You look so tired.” If you had a cut people would ask if it was a “blotch”. They were so mean. I never understood why? We were a minority and we were our own worst enemy. If you could pass for straight you turned on the ones who couldn’t. If you were “labeled a queen” you ripped into the ones who weren’t-imagine the tree falling into the water with all the late comers racing to climb up. There were a few of us that keep our heads above the water and climb to the top. As I sit here writing I wonder why was I saved? Maybe it was to write this blog.
Till tomorrow, be kind
The beginning stages of AIDS were the most frightening no one knew anything about it not even the doctors. There were no such things as computers, or cell phones. The only medical research at the time was for diseases that had telethons. When it became news worthy they would broadcast that only homosexuals carried the deadly disease- imagine coming out proud with that kind of reputation. Many had no choice, look at Rock Hudson, the actor. He was closeted his whole career but could not hide his sexual preference when he got the disease. I remember how no one wanted to know you if you had signs of the disease. Hank wouldn’t let people in the bar when he found out they were infected. He actually had us throw the glasses away when they would leave the bar. He made us serve in plastic. It was a night-mare. Oe would point at people and make rude insinuations; people hung on his words because he was the assistant manager.
The first person I knew that stands out was Frank Vassi. Frank was a middle-aged hair dresser with flaming taste and personality. He always had his Louis V. clutch and enough drugs for the whole bar to enjoy. He would invite me and Kenny Casper to go to the diner and actually helped us become accepted in the “cool” group I had previously mentioned. Frank was a one-line joker who brighten up the night and the most serious moments with humor. Actually the last time I saw him he gave me the smile that I will hold in my heart forever- There was a nasty bartender that worked there (I won’t mention names) and was always mean to Frank. Frank was in the last stages of the disease and wanted one more night at Feathers. We all came out and I had explained the situation to the nasty bartender. I asked him to be nice to Frank. Well he was nice and the night was a huge success. As Frank was leaving that the bar that night I overheard him comment to the one who drove him to the bar, “I don’t remember that bartender being nice.” Well the bartender heard the comment and shot back a rude remark to which Frank responded, “Thank God he’s still a bastard I thought the disease made me forget it!”
The next was Chris M., who looked like a young Clark Gable, was the kindest and sweetest man I ever met. He had that rugged look and a smile that could melt iron. If it was your birthday and you had no one to hold you and make love to you, Chris would be your Romeo. He made so many people happy until AIDS came and so many people were angry. Chris didn’t know- none of us did. These guys were throwing themselves at him and then they blamed him and called him a killer. He never asked them to sleep with him, they threw themselves at him. He even went and told people he was infected. I think I was the only one who cried when he died.
It really was like “The Poseidon Adventure”, our world was turned upside down and we were all scattering around to find the tree to climb to safety. It was sad to watch people turn on each other; Friends accusing friends of being infected. People were so mean, they would say things like-“Did you lose weight?” or “You look so tired.” If you had a cut people would ask if it was a “blotch”. They were so mean. I never understood why? We were a minority and we were our own worst enemy. If you could pass for straight you turned on the ones who couldn’t. If you were “labeled a queen” you ripped into the ones who weren’t-imagine the tree falling into the water with all the late comers racing to climb up. There were a few of us that keep our heads above the water and climb to the top. As I sit here writing I wonder why was I saved? Maybe it was to write this blog.
Till tomorrow, be kind
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Attic
I found an old short story I wrote about AIDS and how it effected many of us and I want to share it with you.It tells how many of us earlier pioneers felt..It happened at Feathers, but not in sequence with the history line.
The Attic
As I look out my attic window I see young lovers holding hands and walking freely down the street. I watch children running after a ball and laugh in the delight of falling down, birds fly freely through the sky. I see other attic windows and wonder if someone is hiding in them like I hide in mine. As I look at these people walking carefree in the street I wonder if they are my enemies. It starts to rain and everyone runs for shelter. I wonder, is this my time to run free in the streets? Do all the attic people come out of hiding now and enjoy the freedom? I wait for someone to go first, I’ll follow anyone who wants to be first, but I am too afraid to be a leader. I know I’m not the only one who is different. I can’t be. I cry myself to sleep on the drafty floor of the attic. I wake to darkness. I feel safe in the darkness.
No this isn’t an excerpt from “The Diary of Anne Frank”; it’s my childhood. I don’t know when it was that I discovered that I was different or how I knew to keep it a secret, I just did. I would love to trade childhoods with anyone who thinks being gay is a life style choice. I watched as my grade school classmates beat up the effeminate boys in school and pretended to be cool to get the suspicions off me. In 8th grade I was a lunch room monitor for the second grade. There was this little Irish girl with thick eyeglasses and braids who was always being picked on because she had a lisp and an Irish accent. I became her protector. I would yell at these second graders not to make fun of her because of something she could not help. Then, not wanting to look un-cool, I told them that if they put a piece of bologna behind the radiator the heat would fry the bologna. The smell would be so bad that they would be sent home from school early. It always worked. So now, this little girl is being invited to parties and has friends to eat lunch with and the other kids find out that this little girl is really cool, even if she talks different from the others. I feel good about myself until…
One day this little girl came up to me and asked, “What is a fag and why do they call my older brother one? Why does it make my mother cry when they call him one?” So much for feeling good. So much for not wanting to be a leader. All my cool friends are going to beat up this little girls’ brother and I, the class clown, will defend him and we will both get beaten up. They call us both fags. I found myself sitting in my attic and nursing a black eye and bloody nose and wondering how am I going to explain this to my mother and father. I looked out at the stars and asked, “Why, God, Why?” My attic doesn’t hold me safe anymore so I leave it in my childhood and I come out of my attic.
I don’t know how to lie and I don’t want to find my mother crying because someone called me a fag, so at fifteen I told them the truth. This was 1975, so no one knew what a gay person was, never mind a gay teenager. My mother blamed my father for not playing football with me and my father blamed my mother for letting me watch soap operas. I told them that I still love them and we never spoke of it again. I wanted to speak about it, but no one ever listens to me, maybe they don't want to hear. Now with both my parents gone, what is the point.
As I kiss a picture of my mother I realize how plastic my love has become since I lost her, I yearn to feel her kiss back. I remember all the brush kisses, kisses that meant nothing, and wonder why I didn’t make them a memory. Now they are only cloudy moments and I kiss a plastic picture and I think of AIDS and safe sex and I remember my friend Kenny Alton. He didn’t kiss plastic. It was before we knew we had to.
He was my first gay best friend. I spoke to him and shared all my childhood secrets and he never judged me. I told him how I would hide in my attic and pretend a life. How David Cassidy loved me and we loved each other and everyone loved us because we had the ultimate love. I wanted the ultimate love. The beach movies where the songs connected their words of love. I wanted the hope that it existed outside my attic. Kenny Alton would smile and know what I was talking about. He did the same things. We shared our “Anne Frank Attic” memories and even though we could walk the streets we still had to hide our secret from everyone who wanted to beat us up for being different. Of course these secrets came out after shots. We worked at Feathers together (he was a waiter I was coat check) and were told we were not allowed to drink and work, but everyone knows shots aren’t drinks. By the end of the night we’d sit on the hood of his car and compare our same attic stories and cry at how lonely it was and then laugh at how ugly we looked when we cried.
Where we differed was he needed the ultimate love, I just wanted it. He believed men when they said, “I love you” I made them prove it. I wouldn’t make love to anyone who wouldn’t bring me home to meet their mother. I was surprised at how many adult men came out of their closets, but still hid in their attics. Kenny Alton believed the hugs and the warmth of their kisses. I didn’t. I brush kissed. No memories, just moments. When he found the prince of his dreams, he also found out he was HIV+. This was the early eighties and HIV+ meant to buy a coffin, there’s no hope.
So we drank our shots and sat on the hood of his car and cried and then laughed at how ugly we looked and I knew to make this moment a memory. He told me how much he admired the fact that once I set my mind on someone or something I never give up. I never lose hope. I thought, fat lotta good that does me. I’m gonna be without my best friend. I asked him how he felt about the whole dying thing. He said, “I don’t want to die, but I don‘t want to live being afraid of dying.”
Then safe-sex came out and we knew how not to die- kiss plastic.
As my lips move away from my mother’s picture, the memory ends. I flash another memory of looking at my mother’s coffin at the cemetery. A feeling of warmth found me that day. As I turned away from looking at my mothers coffin, crying hysterically, I saw that she was buried three rows away from Kenny Alton and I heard him say, “Wipe those tears, you look ugly when you cry.” And I laughed. I realized that if I didn’t have those lonely childhood attic years, I would never have had those happy Kenny Alton years and it all made sense. The ultimate love isn’t a night of hot sex; it’s a friend who pops out of heaven to bring a smile to the face of a friend whose heart is breaking.
The Attic
As I look out my attic window I see young lovers holding hands and walking freely down the street. I watch children running after a ball and laugh in the delight of falling down, birds fly freely through the sky. I see other attic windows and wonder if someone is hiding in them like I hide in mine. As I look at these people walking carefree in the street I wonder if they are my enemies. It starts to rain and everyone runs for shelter. I wonder, is this my time to run free in the streets? Do all the attic people come out of hiding now and enjoy the freedom? I wait for someone to go first, I’ll follow anyone who wants to be first, but I am too afraid to be a leader. I know I’m not the only one who is different. I can’t be. I cry myself to sleep on the drafty floor of the attic. I wake to darkness. I feel safe in the darkness.
No this isn’t an excerpt from “The Diary of Anne Frank”; it’s my childhood. I don’t know when it was that I discovered that I was different or how I knew to keep it a secret, I just did. I would love to trade childhoods with anyone who thinks being gay is a life style choice. I watched as my grade school classmates beat up the effeminate boys in school and pretended to be cool to get the suspicions off me. In 8th grade I was a lunch room monitor for the second grade. There was this little Irish girl with thick eyeglasses and braids who was always being picked on because she had a lisp and an Irish accent. I became her protector. I would yell at these second graders not to make fun of her because of something she could not help. Then, not wanting to look un-cool, I told them that if they put a piece of bologna behind the radiator the heat would fry the bologna. The smell would be so bad that they would be sent home from school early. It always worked. So now, this little girl is being invited to parties and has friends to eat lunch with and the other kids find out that this little girl is really cool, even if she talks different from the others. I feel good about myself until…
One day this little girl came up to me and asked, “What is a fag and why do they call my older brother one? Why does it make my mother cry when they call him one?” So much for feeling good. So much for not wanting to be a leader. All my cool friends are going to beat up this little girls’ brother and I, the class clown, will defend him and we will both get beaten up. They call us both fags. I found myself sitting in my attic and nursing a black eye and bloody nose and wondering how am I going to explain this to my mother and father. I looked out at the stars and asked, “Why, God, Why?” My attic doesn’t hold me safe anymore so I leave it in my childhood and I come out of my attic.
I don’t know how to lie and I don’t want to find my mother crying because someone called me a fag, so at fifteen I told them the truth. This was 1975, so no one knew what a gay person was, never mind a gay teenager. My mother blamed my father for not playing football with me and my father blamed my mother for letting me watch soap operas. I told them that I still love them and we never spoke of it again. I wanted to speak about it, but no one ever listens to me, maybe they don't want to hear. Now with both my parents gone, what is the point.
As I kiss a picture of my mother I realize how plastic my love has become since I lost her, I yearn to feel her kiss back. I remember all the brush kisses, kisses that meant nothing, and wonder why I didn’t make them a memory. Now they are only cloudy moments and I kiss a plastic picture and I think of AIDS and safe sex and I remember my friend Kenny Alton. He didn’t kiss plastic. It was before we knew we had to.
He was my first gay best friend. I spoke to him and shared all my childhood secrets and he never judged me. I told him how I would hide in my attic and pretend a life. How David Cassidy loved me and we loved each other and everyone loved us because we had the ultimate love. I wanted the ultimate love. The beach movies where the songs connected their words of love. I wanted the hope that it existed outside my attic. Kenny Alton would smile and know what I was talking about. He did the same things. We shared our “Anne Frank Attic” memories and even though we could walk the streets we still had to hide our secret from everyone who wanted to beat us up for being different. Of course these secrets came out after shots. We worked at Feathers together (he was a waiter I was coat check) and were told we were not allowed to drink and work, but everyone knows shots aren’t drinks. By the end of the night we’d sit on the hood of his car and compare our same attic stories and cry at how lonely it was and then laugh at how ugly we looked when we cried.
Where we differed was he needed the ultimate love, I just wanted it. He believed men when they said, “I love you” I made them prove it. I wouldn’t make love to anyone who wouldn’t bring me home to meet their mother. I was surprised at how many adult men came out of their closets, but still hid in their attics. Kenny Alton believed the hugs and the warmth of their kisses. I didn’t. I brush kissed. No memories, just moments. When he found the prince of his dreams, he also found out he was HIV+. This was the early eighties and HIV+ meant to buy a coffin, there’s no hope.
So we drank our shots and sat on the hood of his car and cried and then laughed at how ugly we looked and I knew to make this moment a memory. He told me how much he admired the fact that once I set my mind on someone or something I never give up. I never lose hope. I thought, fat lotta good that does me. I’m gonna be without my best friend. I asked him how he felt about the whole dying thing. He said, “I don’t want to die, but I don‘t want to live being afraid of dying.”
Then safe-sex came out and we knew how not to die- kiss plastic.
As my lips move away from my mother’s picture, the memory ends. I flash another memory of looking at my mother’s coffin at the cemetery. A feeling of warmth found me that day. As I turned away from looking at my mothers coffin, crying hysterically, I saw that she was buried three rows away from Kenny Alton and I heard him say, “Wipe those tears, you look ugly when you cry.” And I laughed. I realized that if I didn’t have those lonely childhood attic years, I would never have had those happy Kenny Alton years and it all made sense. The ultimate love isn’t a night of hot sex; it’s a friend who pops out of heaven to bring a smile to the face of a friend whose heart is breaking.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
AIDS- Part 1
AIDS, AIDS, AIDS…Today AIDS is a part of everyone’s vocabulary and understood and real. For me it was a private hell and a public shame. I emember when it first hit the TV news it sounded like a bad joke, only infecting homosexual males and it started when a male flight attentant had sex with a monkey in Africa and carried it back to the United States. How strange.I remember how casual we were about sex before AIDS and how we had to band together.
Before AIDS, yes there was a life before AIDS, everyone was casual about sex. Was it because we wanted to be-no. It was because society did not allow us to be monogamist. See, back then coming out wasn’t that easy. Our parents grew up in a time that did not know what gay was, or how to handle it. Here were many parents who would rather have their child die of cancer than be gay. Horrible time, but I remember you didn’t want to get attached to one person. If you got attached you had to explain him to your family. Back then we all had room mates. You would have to rent a two bedroom and have a “fake” second bedroom. Feminine guys were always single because “butch” guys were to embarrassed to introduce them to their families. You really did have to love a type and not a person. So many times I was so frustrated to hear people say, “He’s not my type.” Having casual sex made all those worries non –existent, you never had to explain because you were never invested in anyone long enough to have to say anything to your family. There would be no uncomfortable conversations, until the family weddings and funerals. How many of you have the two hundred year old aunt who constantly asks, “So are you dating anyone?” Why do families put you through that! It’s like asking a kid, “Do you like school?” Imagine how wonderful life would be if we could just be allowed to be proud of who we are? I think that was John Lennon’s dream.
I remember when I tried coming out to my family. I had finally gotten the nerve to open myself up and then they ignored what I said and I was kinda back where I started. It was funny how when I came out, friends really did become family. I remember once my mother said to me, “I hope you have good friends to talk to because I don’t think I understand being gay.” It was such an honest moment and it was ok. I always loved my mother’s honesty and it gave me permission to become close to my friends and see them as my “gay” family. I also remember when AIDS had come out and was on the TV. I found my mother in the backyard knitting she had tears in her eyes. I asked her what was wrong. She answered that she didn’t want me to die. She went on to explain how she was hearing how everyone was getting AIDS and dying. I giggled a little and told her not to worry that I was very careful. I also informed her that as attractive as she thought I was in the “gay” world I wasn’t that attractive. Well, she dried her tears and went back to knitting and proclaimed, “Then being gay must be a mental disease if they can’t see how handsome my son is.” Now I will never make this personal again- I just wanted to allow you to understand what we were all going through.
My “gay” family began with Kenny, but when Kenny settled down with Ed I was all alone in the strange new bar world- talk about over-whelming! I remember after I broke up with Bill I followed him as he stormed out of the bar. He flew off without me. I think I was more upset that he was my ride home and I was stranded there. As I sat on the front stairs of the bar, pondering my decisions, “why didn’t I wait to break up with him after he gave me a ride home?” a black chick ran out of the bar and towards me and threw up on the sidewalk in front of me. I looked at the puke that was an inch from my sneaker and asked, “Where did you get the Chinese food from?” “Oh, darling I am so sorry! I just can’t hold my liquor.” The black chick ended up being a young guy from Trinidad named Terry, Terry St. Clare. Terry told me that he was thrown out from his parent’s home for being gay, he was hooking up with an ugly guy because he needed a place to stay for the night. He figured if he drank the guy wouldn’t look so ugly, it wasn’t working he informed me. He asked my story and I told him about Bill and the break up. “Oh, darling you should never lose sleep because of a guy. Look at those ugly bags under your eyes.” I informed him those ugly bags are genetic. We laughed.
Enter Steven and Michael, very queenie guys, but Terry and I found out they had a car! Neither Terry, nor I drove at the time. The things we used to do for a ride. They wanted to up to Reflections and Candle Light-two neighboring clubs at the time. They were fun places and AJ, who would later work at Feathers, was the HOT DJ at Reflections. Candle Light was boring, but had Jimmy, the hot bartender. We ended the night back at Feathers. Terry pretended that his date left without him and got Steven to invite him back home with him, they dropped me off at my home. As I laid in bed that night little did I know that I had just bought a ticket for the ride of my life that would last a very long part of my life.
Till Tomorrow, Be Kind.
Before AIDS, yes there was a life before AIDS, everyone was casual about sex. Was it because we wanted to be-no. It was because society did not allow us to be monogamist. See, back then coming out wasn’t that easy. Our parents grew up in a time that did not know what gay was, or how to handle it. Here were many parents who would rather have their child die of cancer than be gay. Horrible time, but I remember you didn’t want to get attached to one person. If you got attached you had to explain him to your family. Back then we all had room mates. You would have to rent a two bedroom and have a “fake” second bedroom. Feminine guys were always single because “butch” guys were to embarrassed to introduce them to their families. You really did have to love a type and not a person. So many times I was so frustrated to hear people say, “He’s not my type.” Having casual sex made all those worries non –existent, you never had to explain because you were never invested in anyone long enough to have to say anything to your family. There would be no uncomfortable conversations, until the family weddings and funerals. How many of you have the two hundred year old aunt who constantly asks, “So are you dating anyone?” Why do families put you through that! It’s like asking a kid, “Do you like school?” Imagine how wonderful life would be if we could just be allowed to be proud of who we are? I think that was John Lennon’s dream.
I remember when I tried coming out to my family. I had finally gotten the nerve to open myself up and then they ignored what I said and I was kinda back where I started. It was funny how when I came out, friends really did become family. I remember once my mother said to me, “I hope you have good friends to talk to because I don’t think I understand being gay.” It was such an honest moment and it was ok. I always loved my mother’s honesty and it gave me permission to become close to my friends and see them as my “gay” family. I also remember when AIDS had come out and was on the TV. I found my mother in the backyard knitting she had tears in her eyes. I asked her what was wrong. She answered that she didn’t want me to die. She went on to explain how she was hearing how everyone was getting AIDS and dying. I giggled a little and told her not to worry that I was very careful. I also informed her that as attractive as she thought I was in the “gay” world I wasn’t that attractive. Well, she dried her tears and went back to knitting and proclaimed, “Then being gay must be a mental disease if they can’t see how handsome my son is.” Now I will never make this personal again- I just wanted to allow you to understand what we were all going through.
My “gay” family began with Kenny, but when Kenny settled down with Ed I was all alone in the strange new bar world- talk about over-whelming! I remember after I broke up with Bill I followed him as he stormed out of the bar. He flew off without me. I think I was more upset that he was my ride home and I was stranded there. As I sat on the front stairs of the bar, pondering my decisions, “why didn’t I wait to break up with him after he gave me a ride home?” a black chick ran out of the bar and towards me and threw up on the sidewalk in front of me. I looked at the puke that was an inch from my sneaker and asked, “Where did you get the Chinese food from?” “Oh, darling I am so sorry! I just can’t hold my liquor.” The black chick ended up being a young guy from Trinidad named Terry, Terry St. Clare. Terry told me that he was thrown out from his parent’s home for being gay, he was hooking up with an ugly guy because he needed a place to stay for the night. He figured if he drank the guy wouldn’t look so ugly, it wasn’t working he informed me. He asked my story and I told him about Bill and the break up. “Oh, darling you should never lose sleep because of a guy. Look at those ugly bags under your eyes.” I informed him those ugly bags are genetic. We laughed.
Enter Steven and Michael, very queenie guys, but Terry and I found out they had a car! Neither Terry, nor I drove at the time. The things we used to do for a ride. They wanted to up to Reflections and Candle Light-two neighboring clubs at the time. They were fun places and AJ, who would later work at Feathers, was the HOT DJ at Reflections. Candle Light was boring, but had Jimmy, the hot bartender. We ended the night back at Feathers. Terry pretended that his date left without him and got Steven to invite him back home with him, they dropped me off at my home. As I laid in bed that night little did I know that I had just bought a ticket for the ride of my life that would last a very long part of my life.
Till Tomorrow, Be Kind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)