There are two things that make me cry: a man proposing to the man he loves, and flash mobs.
Which is why the following video practically melted me into a puddle, Wicked Witch style, with a heart like the Grinch that grew twice its size.
Love is love is love is love is love is love is love…
This collection of photos from the ‘Alice in Wonderland’ GLSEN Gala is the sort of thing that keeps me inspired to keep going with this blog. It includes some of my favorite people, who came together for the formal kick-off to Albany’s Pride weekend in the newly-renovated Renaissance Hotel. Hopefully this will counteract some of the darkness most of us have been feeling of late. When I look at these photos, at my friends in these photos, it fills me with hope, and a sliver of happiness that reminds me of all that’s good in this world.
We begin with one of the people responsible for putting this whole thing together: Rick Marchant. He’s been doing this for some time, and each year he somehow manages to out-do himself. The tireless and selfless work of a true hero, Rick is a hero to many of us.
Honorary Chair Angela Ledford gave the most moving and powerful speech of the night, something that resonates and challenges the most open-minded among us. We need that now.
The gentlemen from HomoRadio were being honored for their decades of work, and it is truly an honor to call these guys our friends.
It was a night of love and joy, the formal event for Albany’s Pride weekend, and it was a room filled with smiles and laughter.
Looking back, it feels like another world, for a number of reasons. Parties are like that. The time before a tragedy is like that too.
Such fabulousness lives on here, however, and these memories are happy ones that I’d like to jot down in this blog, the modern-day diary.
The parade of wonderful people marched onward as I saw friends old and new, each one resplendent and giddy with the promise of Pride.
Too often, I dwell on the darker more mournful aspects of life. I’ve used this space as my way of showing off the best of our world – the things that excite and inspire and elicit happiness and joy. These smiling faces are the ultimate personification of that.
Another great person who has helped to make these GLSEN Events happen is Lisa Weis, seen in all her sequin splendor. Oh, and you may also recognize the guy below for his contributions to my state of well-being. All in all, it was an amazing evening, and a lovely way to kick off Pride Weekend in Albany.
These are the faces we need to remember.
These are the lives we need to celebrate.
These are the people who needlessly lost their lives, who leave behind grieving parents and families and lovers and friends.
One of the many moving stories to come out of the Orlando shooting is the harrowing and ultimately sorrowful text exchange between a mother and son. Eddie Justice began texting his mother, Mina Justice, shortly after the shooting began. He was hiding in a bathroom and his first message was heartbreaking:
“Mommy I love you.”
He indicated he was trapped and that someone was shooting in the club. He texted her that he was at Pulse, and to call the police.
“I’m gonna die.”
I tried to imagine what was going on in their heads, what they were thinking as they typed those texts to each other, connected in the middle of the night, one last time – a mother and a son, and a bond that was about to be tested in the worst possible way. His mother quickly responded, sending messages asking if he was ok. She called 911. She texted more. Half an hour later, he wrote back:
“Call them mommy
Now.
He’s coming. I’m gonna die.”
——————————————————————————–
The instant I read ‘Mommy,’ I wept.
I wept for Mina, and the helplessness a mother feels and fears the most.
I wept for Eddie, and the helplessness a child feels and fears the most.
I wept for all of us gay boys and girls who cried out ‘Mommy’ in a moment of need and terror, for all of us who ever felt scared to be ourselves, who looked to the one person who was supposed to unconditionally love us no matter what. That is a basic human need, it goes above and beyond our sexuality, yet no other group has historically been so disowned and unloved, and often by their own parents, thanks to a culture of shame and intolerance, fed and fueled by religious dogma and willful ignorance.
I wept for all the people trapped in that club, who likely felt terror for the last moments of their lives, who were away from their mothers and their families.
I even wept for the person who was so blinded by hate that he had to destroy innocence and love, and the lives of countless others.
Most of all, I wept for a world that allowed, and continues to allow, such events to happen, and for not understanding how anything like this could come to be.
Mina Justice
Eddie Justice
—————————————————————————————-
Tonight, however, I hope.
I hope you and I will remember not the blood or the fear or the tears, but the love.
I hope we remember the light that these 49 human beings brought to the loved ones in their lives.
I hope we honor their memory, that we cherish each other a little more because of it, and that this never happens again.
I hope…
Because it’s all I can do.
IN MEMORIAM
Stanley Almodovar III, 23 years old
Amanda Alvear, 25 years old
Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26 years old
Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33 years old
Antonio Davon Brown, 29 years old
Darryl Roman Burt II, 29 years old
Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28 years old
Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25 years old
Luis Daniel Conde, 39 years old
Cory James Connell, 21 years old
Tevin Eugene Crosby, 25 years old
Deonka Deidra Drayton, 32 years old
Simon Adrian Carrillo Fernandez, 31 years old
Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25 years old
Mercedez Marisol Flores, 26 years old
Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22 years old
Juan Ramon Guerrero, 22 years old
Paul Terrell Henry, 41 years old
Frank Hernandez, 27 years old
Miguel Angel Honorato, 30 years old
Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40 years old
Jason Benjamin Josaphat, 19 years old
Eddie Jamoldroy Justice, 30 years old
Anthony Luis Laureanodisla, 25 years old
Christopher Andrew Leinonen, 32 years old
Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21 years old
Brenda Lee Marquez McCool, 49 years old
Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25 years old
Kimberly Morris, 37 years old
Akyra Monet Murray, 18 years old
Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20 years old
Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25 years old
Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36 years old
Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32 years old
Jean Carlos Mendez Perez, 35 years old
Enrique L. Rios, Jr., 25 years old
Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, 27 years old
Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35 years old
Christopher Joseph Sanfeliz, 24 years old
Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24 years old
Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34 years old
Shane Evan Tomlinson, 33 years old
Martin Benitez Torres, 33 years old
Jonathan Antonio Camuy Vega, 24 years old
Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37 years old
Luis S. Vielma, 22 years old
Franky Jimmy Dejesus Velazquez, 50 years old
Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37 years old
Jerald Arthur Wright, 31 years old
This is the sort of thing I don’t normally post here. These are the hate filled words of Stephen L. Anderson of the Faithful Word Baptist Church in Tempe, Arizona. He gave a hate-filled rant against “faggots†just hours after the killing of 49 innocent people. (The video was quickly taken down for violating the ‘hate speech’ rules on YouTube.) Anderson claims to be a Pastor – a guy who purports to teach the workings of the Lord – but he’s actually embodying an evil that masks itself as religion. That’s the most insidious atrocity of all, but it’s really not for me to decide. If your God is one that aligns with this despicable human being and the hatred he spews, I’d be more concerned for your own soul than mine.
Before most of the bodies had been identified, before the families had even been notified, Steven Anderson posted a video exalting in their deaths. That takes a certain level of cruelty that I have never witnessed until now. Certainly I’ve read about it – the mass murderers, the dictators, the genocides – but I’ve never quite seen it in this way, directed pointedly at me just because I’m gay. As annoying as I can sometimes be, I’ve never seen anyone actually feel so strongly that I deserved to be killed or, as he puts it, exterminated.
It’s a strange feeling to have such a bull’s eye on your chest.
It inspires fear in some people, but the opposite in me.
I feel galvanized and energized, enough to write this post and to make a promise that it won’t be the last.
Even though he has wished death for me and my LGBT family, I do not wish the same for him, and that’s hard to do. It would be easy to return his volley with acts of similar vile. But I won’t, as he has done, actively wish him harm or ill. Instead, I will merely share his words, from his mouth and his heart, and let you make up your own mind. This is one self-professed Christian’s response to the murderous rampage that killed 49 innocent people in a gay club in Orlando, Florida:
The Bible says that homosexuals should be put to death, in Leviticus 20:13. Obviously, it’s not right for somebody to just, you know, shoot up the place, because that’s not going through the proper channels. But these people all should have been killed, anyway, but they should have been killed through the proper channels, as in they should have been executed by a righteous government that would have tried them, convicted them, and saw them executed. Because, in Leviticus 20:13, God’s perfect law, he put the death penalty on murder, and he also put the death penalty on homosexuality. That’s what the Bible says, plain and simple.
So, you know, the good news is that at least 50 of these pedophiles are not gonna be harming children anymore. The bad news is that a lot of the homos in the bar are still alive, so they’re gonna continue to molest children and recruit people into their filthy homosexual lifestyle.
I’m not sad about it, I’m not gonna cry about it. Because these 50 people in a gay bar that got shot up, they were gonna die of AIDS, and syphilis, and whatever else. They were all gonna die early, anyway, because homosexuals have a 20-year shorter life-span than normal people, anyway. At least these dangerous predators, these dangerous filthy pedophiles at this gay bar, at least they’re off the streets.
-Â Stephen L. Anderson, Faithful Word Baptist Church
As for my usual penchant of avoiding such hideous people and ignoring their existence and hateful rhetoric, I’m taking exception in this instance, as I’ve done in cases that are especially egregious. Every now and then, you must acknowledge such evil, and if there’s one lining of silver in all of this it’s that there are now faces behind the hatred.
If you refuse to acknowledge that this plays a part in what happened in Orlando, if you cannot see or understand how the preaching of hatred disguised as religion is a direct cause of such needless violence against innocent people, then you yourself are part of the problem. And it’s everywhere – it’s in the question of whether this was a hate crime or an act of terrorism (they are not, nor have they ever been, exclusive of one another), it’s in the question of whether he intended to strike a gay club, and it’s in the question of why we’re so upset about this – if you wonder about those things, even on a philosophical level, you are part of a system that has trampled on LGBT individuals for centuries.
A true believer in Love and Light and whatever God in which you put your faith does not wish for death upon innocent people. They don’t follow the hypocritical ramblings of a book written centuries ago and proven antiquated and wrong time and time again. A true believer (and this goes across the board in all major religions) does not condone death upon another – those are man-made doctrines. Rather, at the core of every religion is a respect and love for ALL human life.
When the reasonable, thoughtful, caring and compassionate people of the world – the true bearers of peace and love, are faced with deciding what is right and wrong, Anderson will be confronted with a judgment not by God, but by humanity – by simple human decency – and it will be love, not hate, that banishes him to his own hell.
When our country was attacked on September 11, 2001, and my office was evacuated and sent home, I stepped outside into the brilliant blue-skied day of our backyard and felt haunted. Everything I did suddenly seemed small and insignificant when the scope and atrocity of what had just happened started to sink in. I went back inside and did the only thing I’ve done when nothing else seems to matter: I wrote. To my family, to my friends, to the people who mattered most to me, I wrote. Simple letters, letters telling them how much they meant to me, and how this was the only thing I could think of to do in such a tragic time. I guess that’s what I’m doing now.
This weekend was a celebration of LGBT Pride in many cities across the country. We attended a couple of events, and even in the face of torrential downpours we made an appearance at Albany’s Gay Pride celebration. When it was all done, I looked at Twitter and FaceBook and Instagram, and all I saw was love and happiness and joy. It was a rare and welcome break from political fighting and exposed hatred, the kind of day when all is rainbows and giddiness and smiles. On Sunday, I woke up, still on that Pride high, to the news that a shooter armed with an assault rifle had killed 50 people in a gay nightclub in Orlando. The shooter’s father apparently said that his son was disgusted by the sight of two men kissing. It is now the worst shooting in American history. Think about that. More than Newtown, CT. More than Aurora, CO. More than Columbine, CO.
As I struggle to find meaning in all of this, when clearly there may be none other than simple hatred, I wonder what, if anything, we can do about it. Gun control laws? Insuring that homophobic leaders don’t get elected? Supporting laws that continue to push for equality? Yes to all of that, but for me it begins on a smaller scale.
Whenever something like this happens, the first thing I want to do is hide and retract from the world. To give up on everything that makes me, and others, so happy. That shooter wanted to stop two guys from kissing because he didn’t like it. He would likely find offense at every other post on this site. And though my voice is small and limited, and the shooter is already dead, the best thing I know how to do is write posts like this. He tried to silence us, and so I shout louder.
The world is violent and mercurial – it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love – love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love. ~ Tennessee Williams
What if we are reaching a point where LGBT Pride is about more than equality?
What if our movement, fought for so long and in such bloody battles, is at a curve that aligns with something much deeper, something that challenges the very bedrock upon which our culture so problematically rests?
Such immense ponderings were brought to thrilling life when my friend Angela D. Ledford gave her opening remarks as Honorary Chair of the GLSEN ‘Alice in Wonderland’ Gala last night. Every now and then something cuts through and changes the way we think about our most fundamental beliefs and systems. Personally, I love that sort of challenge. It makes us better people. Kinder and more compassionate people. It also illuminates where we might go at a time when we have made such great strides, yet still struggle to move forward.
After listening to her remarks, I asked if she would consent to my posting them here, and she graciously agreed. What follows is a thrilling take on what shape Pride might hopefully take in the future. Thank you, Angela, for the possibilities and challenges posited in your words and spirit:
____________________________________________
“This year we celebrate 18 years of ongoing contributions by the NY Capital Region chapter of GLSEN and 25 years as a national organization. GLSEN works to ensure safe schools for all students regardless of sexual orientation and gender identity, and GLSEN – NY Capital region does crucial work with youth situated in 8 counties within the capital region. So I am incredibly honored to be here this evening as honorary chair for this event, which raises money for an lgbt scholarship and the continued work GLSEN does to foster a safe and healthy educational environment.
It is a great privilege to have the opportunity to speak to a room full of people who are united in the cause of justice. Yet it seems we are at a bit of a crossroads. So much of the mainstream lgbt movement has been devoted to marriage equality. So what now? I want to suggest this evening that it is high time we move beyond the “equality agenda.â€
The “equality agenda†is alluring. It promises fairness, inclusion, and respectability. However, we live in a markedly inegalitarian society by virtually all empirical measures of human well-being. We are stratified by race, class, gender, sexuality, gender identity, religion, and age, to name the most prominent. And while we have made great strides, this country was not founded upon inclusion. African-Americans, women, and the poor weren’t simply excluded for a period from an otherwise egalitarian system. Rather our exclusion creates the fundamental boundary against which citizenship, liberty, and equality is constructed and upon which our social and political institutions rest. Indeed, race and gender are wholly invented categories that serve to legitimize a maldistribution of power. And capitalism, a crucial player here, cannot flourish without the existence of categories that MARGINALIZE AND OPPRESS MOST TO justify mass incarceration, rape culture, imperialism AND AN extreme concentration of wealth. Inequality and exploitation are woven in to the very fabric of our society, both public and private.
So when we pursue what is called “equality,†the best we can hope for is inclusion in a exploitive system that requires acceptance of dominant social values and mores. We have been told “You can come to the party, but you must aspire to be just like us.†Sadly, this is an assimilationist fiction — the “other†can never really be just like the “us†in that narrative. The system itself is not transformed– some of us are merely permitted to participate more fully in its unequal operations, sparing ourselves from the measure of the harms it inflicts if we agree to be complicit in what it does to other we love. Within the confines of the “equality agenda,†we have been DENIED TRANSFORMATIONAL CHANGE while draped in the vestments of parity and progress.
And it isn’t just marriage equality that leads us to this crossroads, but also the tension within the movement regarding our trans community. Our trans and gender non-conforming community — particularly trans and gender non-conforming youth– are leading the way toward illuminating and throwing into question the very centrality of the sex binary. Through their lives and experiences, they reveal the ways in which gendered expectations serve to legitimize the maldistribution of power and structure so much of our life prospects — what kinds of interests we will pursue, how we comport our bodies, what occupations we will be deemed fit for, what restrooms we can use, the relationships we can imagine AND embark upon, and how safe we can expect to be. Finding themselves on the margin in the equality discussion, they have chosen to explore the liberatory possibilities of the margin, creatively and bravely doing the revolutionary work of liberation that will lead us to a more just and equal society for all.
However, choosing the lifesaving work of liberation often isn’t safe, as we were recently reminded when the mayor marked the massive contributions of LGBT people of color to the ongoing fight for fairness. One woman spoke with great passion about her frustration during GENDA lobbying efforts with the state Senate. She complained that none of the Senate staffers really took her seriously. All they could talk about, she said, was the November elections. As she reminded us, “I don’t know if I or my trans brothers and sisters will even be here in November!†We have much work to do, and it is all the more reason to support the kind of work GLSEN does.
I cannot help but think about Sylvia Rivera, a revolutionary trans activist of the 70’s and 80’s. During a demonstration, someone spat at Sylvia, “You’re disgusting!†To which she replied, “Oh honey, we’re not disgusting, WE’RE REVOLTING!†I have thought of that pronouncement—that rallying cry–so many times over the years. I am drawn to its powerful dual meaning—real change requires revolutionary ideas and revolutionary tactics—none of which is more powerful than being willing to be revolting—to choose the margins as a place of resistance, as a place of rejecting the “normal†and “respectable†as a means to redefine what it is to be fully human. It is time to stop asking for equality and demand liberation.”
~ Angela D. Ledford
 Happy Gay Pride to Albany and Boston! In the pendulum-like swing-act I’ve been forced to perform in the past decade-plus that Albany’s Gay Pride weekend has coincided with Boston’s, this year I’m back in Albany (weather-permitting, of course) and looking forward to the little parade around the park. It’s not really fair to compare the two, so I won’t, but each has proven a valuable reminder of everything that so many people are still fighting for – equality, respect, and, yes, pride. As the years pass, I hear more and more that people are beginning to question whether the notion of Gay Pride is even necessary. I’ve wondered that myself. In an ideal world, I don’t think it would be, but this world is far from ideal, and until that time comes, Pride is a relevant and vital way of remembering, celebrating, and propagating acceptance of people who haven’t always been accepted. I don’t think I’ll reach the point in my lifetime when it’s not needed. Some things should never be forgotten.
A party is only as good as the people who populate it.
Tonight, some of the best are assembling at the GLSEN ‘Alice in Wonderland’ Gala to kick off Albany’s Pride weekend. Taking place at the Renaissance Hotel in historic Downtown Albany, this is sure to be an event that gathers a number of wonderful people under one newly-renovated roof. To that end, I’ll be in bold attire with a slightly-formal slant. Yes, there’s a suit jacket, and of course there’s a hat, but neither is traditional of color or shade.
As for the real meaning behind the magnificent madness, GLSEN does some incredible work, and it’s done mostly through their amazing team. Here’s a quick, and certainly not all-inclusive, run-down of this troupe:
Honorary Chair:Â Angela D. Ledford
Master of Ceremonies:Â Nathan Lee Graham
Pianist/Dear Friend:Â Cherrilyn
We are honoring Alison Lattimore, School Librarian in Hudson Falls, Dori McKinney of Albany High, Alex Eleazar of Hawthorne Valley Waldorf School, Jack Lawrence Einstein of Shaker & all our “family” members at WRPI’s HomoRadio (Dr. Ray, S
ean McLaughlin, Ryan Smith, David Liebig, Ernie Polcardy, Joe Galu, Tim Ruppert, Ulysses de Armas, et al).Â
A number of people I know – along with several studies on the issue – have claimed that a high percentage of homophobic people are actually gay themselves. I’ve always had a hard time believing that. Maybe I’m naive and foolish enough to think that most people aren’t so stupid and self-defeating, and maybe I’m just completely wrong. The only time I wonder about the phenomenon of homophobic man as closeted homosexual is when someone is so fixated on gay people that it’s all they talk about. Rick Santorum and Mike Huckabee come to mind, and now these Benham Brothers – who were set to have their own HGTV home improvement show until their anti-gay vitriol was discovered. Now, it’s like someone unlocked their mouths and all that’s coming out of them is cock talk. I mean, I don’t even think about gay sex as much as these dudes do. And so I’m left to wonder…
When their show was canceled before it even began, they posted this YouTube video. I lost count of all the double-entendres very quickly after one referred to the other as his “sister” and they started rattling off ‘The Three C’s’ that rule their lives. Yes, really. Watch:
A couple of days ago, they posted a big Bible-thumping article on how all the North Carolina shenanigans of late (you know, how the whole world is basically pulling out from a state that’s going to espouse such hateful “values” – and everyone knows that good Christians never pull out) are an attack on their religion. It’s more nonsense, but here are a few excerpts that better showcase their moronic hatred than my rhetoric could ever approach:
“Last week was a crazy week for the state of North Carolina. The hoopla around HB2 (House Bill 2), which overturned Charlotte’s radical bathroom bill, indicates just how demanding and pervasive the roots of the sexual revolution are in our country. And it reveals the direction in which we are headed as a nation…
This is the pattern of the sexual revolution’s mob, surrounding its prey, forcing its will on all who stand in the way.
Yet this is nothing new. As Scripture says, “There’s nothing new under the sun.†Today’s sexual revolution is simply new fruit coming from the same vine – the vine of Sodom.
In Genesis 19, we see how Sodom reacted to the men of God who came to Lot’s house:
“Before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, surrounded the house, both young and old, all the people from every quarter; and they called out to Lot and said to him, ‘Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may have relations with them’†(19:4-5).
Today, the sexual revolution of Sodom has pervaded every sphere of society, capturing both young and old. And anyone standing in the way will be surrounded by an angry mob demanding participation…
As the men of Sodom surrounded the house, Lot offered them his daughters, which reveals how pathetic he had become as a father. Yet they refused his accommodation – and it got even nastier:
“So they pressed hard against Lot and came near to break the door†(19:9b).
The “vine†of Sodom in a nation forces participation against the will of the people. It refuses to be told, “No.â€
The story continues as the mob pressed against Lot and was struck with blindness, yet the rage continued:
“They struck the men with blindness, both small and great, so that they wearied themselves trying to find the doorway†(19:11).
Wouldn’t getting struck with blindness not sober you up a bit? Yet they “wearied themselves to get to the door!†The sexual revolution is “blind†to its own rage and hate. It has no capacity for reason. It has no ability to see its own hypocrisy or discern its hopeless future. It just forces itself on others regardless of cost or consequence.
Although Lot escaped the city of Sodom, the “vine of Sodom†left with him and eventually took root in the nation of Israel many years later. And it’s still alive today.”
““For they are a nation lacking in counsel, and there is no understanding in them. Would that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would discern their future. … For their vine is from the vine of Sodom, and from the fields of Gomorrah; their grapes are grapes of poison, their clusters, bitter. Their wine is the venom of serpents, and the deadly poison of cobras†(Deuteronomy 32:28-30, 32-33).
What we are witnessing today in America is the vine of Sodom, which is a deadly poison that erodes the moral fabric of a nation. It’s demanding and pervasive, and it refuses to be told, “No.†All across Europe and now throughout America the vine has taken root and is surrounding its prey, and nothing short of a miracle will stop its deadly poison.
Yet it wasn’t the city of Sodom or the people that were the problem; it was the spiritual “vine†of sin that had taken root and perverted the nation. Interestingly, rampant homosexuality was not the “root†of sin in Sodom, but rather the effects of the real root. The prophet Ezekiel said, “‘Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy†(Ezekiel 16:49).
The fertile soil that makes the “vine of Sodom†grow in a nation is when the people are arrogant, overfed and unconcerned. In their pride, they reject God and indulge themselves endlessly, and they are concerned about nobody but themselves. To be honest, this sounds more like professing “Christians†today than anyone.
So today, the newest fruit of the vine of Sodom is the sexual revolution – and it’s poisoning our land. It has nearly taken over everything and is forcing itself on everyone.
Yet it cannot ultimately be removed by “fire and brimstone†from heaven or “common sense laws†from earth. Its ultimate defeat will come when we humble ourselves in repentance and seek God’s face once again. Only the Gospel of Jesus Christ has the power to defeat the real root of the “vine of Sodom.—
I guess my question is: why do they care so much? If what we’re doing as a gay people is so sinful, that’s on us. How does it affect anyone, least of all these two Christians? That’s the part I don’t get. Thankfully, I don’t know either David or Jason Benham. I have no reason to believe either of them are gay. I do, however, have to wonder why they are so obsessed with gay people and gay sex when it really has nothing to do with them. Unless it does…?
Coco Peru is without challenge one of my favorite entertainers. From her scene-stealing, semen-burning turn in ‘Trick’ to her hilarious (and surprisingly touching) performance in ‘Girls Will Be Girls’ Ms. Peru has been giving audiences razor-sharp wit and side-splitting commentary for more years than any of us cares to recall.
Now she’s making a very serious and earnest play for the television stardom that should have been hers all this time, with a Kickstarter Campaign in which she aims to film a pilot for ‘Conversations with Coco’ – a genius idea that I’d make must-see viewing (and I barely watch TV). There are just a few days left to fund it, so if you are feeling the least bit generous, please visit the ‘Conversations with Coco’ Kickstarter page and get to it. You know she’s worthy.
The best part is that if and when the show kicks off, portions of the proceeds will go to the Los Angeles LGBT Center. Do good, feel good, make good – and enjoy the laughs along the way.
HOLLYWOOD – Friend Movement and Vertex Media are proud to announce the development of “The Ronnie and Eddie Show,†a comedic reality show that follows the lives of actor and entrepreneur duo, Ronnie Kroell and “Laughing Eddie†Lobo.“The Ronnie and Eddie” Show follows the lives of BRAVO’s, “Make Me A Super Model†fan favorite, Ronnie Kroell and Hollywood Funny Man, “Laughing Eddie†Lobo on a roller coaster journey of dreams, drama, and helping others. Each 30-minute episode brings the viewer an intimate look behind the “smoke and mirrors” of Hollywood, the challenges of operating a business, and the joy of making the dreams of others come true. The show promises to bring the humor of Laverne and Shirley, the drama of Vanderpump Rules, and the heart of Extreme Home Makeover.Enjoy celebrity cameos from the likes of BRUCE VILANCH, KARAMO BROWN, AYLIN BAYRAMOGLU, FRENCHIE DAVIS, and more to be announced.By supporting “THE RONNIE AND EDDIE SHOW†on Indiegogo, supporters have a part in creating a new Hollywood – a more inclusive, supportive, and talent driven place to dream.
It’s been a while since I’ve done a ‘Straight Ally‘ feature, and that’s my fault for being lazy. Well, busy and lazy. And it turns out this isn’t a new ‘Straight Ally’ post, but rather a recap of those that came before in honor of Ally Week. Let it also serve as a call-out for any allies you might have in mind that are worthy of a feature post. I’d like to get back into my interview/profile pieces.
It all began with my friend Skip Montross, who was an important impetus for getting the series started. As such, it was a natural, easy, and fun way to document a singular friendship, as well as looking into its universal components, and the way we operated in a society where gay male/straight male friendships were becoming increasingly common, and interesting.
Next up was fitness superstar Scott Herman, who added some hunkiness to the ally factor. I’m all about a pretty poster boy, especially if the sauce he’s shelling is for equality and acceptance.
Founder of Athlete Ally, Hudson Taylor was an obvious and exemplary choice for a Straight Ally. He’s been dedicating his life to forging the way for equality, especially in the realm of sports.
Along those sporty lines, Ben Cohen has been one of the staunchest straight allies the world has known. His rugby roots paved the way for his social activism, and his very personal tragedy involving bullying has given him a touching credence that makes his work all the more meaningful.
A very big round of thanks needs to go out to all of my friends who have proven to be straight allies over the years. Being an ally doesn’t necessarily mean making a public spectacle of yourself or instituting grand sweeping reform – sometimes being a friend is all you need to do.
When Kim Davis first refused to issue same-sex marriage certificates even after the Supreme Court declared it law, I took it all with a grain of salt. The will of the highest court in the country seemingly meant nothing to her, and though it was an aggressive, and downright mean, act to perpetrate against a couple that simply wanted to get married (at its heart, Ms. Davis, that’s what you’re doing, under the guise of religion), I still decided to let her nonsense play out.
Let’s be reasonable, something that people in support of Ms. Davis and “religious freedom” seem incapable of being. Kim Davis has been married four times. She’s been divorced three times. If we’re going to go by ‘God’s law’ then Ms. Davis is already in for a hellaciously hot future. Targeting innocent gay and lesbian couples who want only to celebrate their love (as she got to do four times already) is not endearing her to anyone’s God. I thought for sure the loonies would see that much, but they and Ms. Davis herself have proven capable of stupidity beyond my wildest imagination. Even then I joked a bit, saying that I didn’t understand how someone so badly in need of a makeover could alienate so many gay men.
But today, after her umpteenth appeal was denied, and after she still refused to do her damn job and issue marriage licenses, I’m just pissed. I work for the government too, but if I behaved the way she did I’d be disciplined big time. Her job is to issue marriage licenses, not administer a religious sacrament. There is a distinct separation of church and state written into the constitution, and it’s there for precisely this reason.
Let’s say, for example, that my religion is fashion. Not a far-fetched example, quite frankly. And let’s say that I’m vociferously against Crocs and cargo shorts, that I think anyone who wears them is going to hell, and that I don’t want to be affiliated with them in any way. As much as I’d like to not help them, if my job calls upon me to provide information that they need to do their job, if I have to help them or support them in the course of the day, as a state worker I have to do so. I can’t refuse because I don’t believe in Crocs or cargo shorts.
Or better yet, let’s say that I don’t believe in working a full day. My beliefs are that I need a siesta from noon to five, and after that I need a period to relax and meditate. It goes directly against the hours that I’m supposed to work, but hey, those are my beliefs and everyone who knows me will most definitely attest to this. Can I just leave my job at noon based on these staunchly-held beliefs?
That’s exactly what Ms. Davis is doing right now. If it were anyone else, they’d be disciplined, if not fired. How many times does she need to be instructed to uphold the law of the country and do her job as a government employee? I think she’s had her chance. Either do your job, or resign. Stop getting paid for services you refuse to render.
When I was in third grade, saddle shoes were all the rage. At least I thought they were – the way they contrasted so delightfully in and of themselves, the way they sharpened an outfit. I didn’t pay much attention to who exactly was wearing them, but I loved the way they looked and soon became obsessed with getting a pair.
At Buster Brown there was a pair of saddle shoes – for boys in fact – and I rejoiced as I slid them on my feet. Ahh, the glory of a pair of shoes! These shone in shiny black and white, beacons of pride and joy, like tickling piano keys as I walked. I marched around the store, admiring them in the shoe mirrors. They were bold, and at first my feet were unaccustomed to something so demanding of a second look. Could I pull them off? Of course! How could I not? I thought of those pretty little girls parading around in their pristine saddle shoes, topped by perfectly-white frilly socks. How they glided along on dainty footsteps, how they made it look so effortlessly elegant and easy, and how I wanted to do the same.
The first day I wore my saddle shoes I felt like I was floating into school. I was making my own black-and-white checker-tiled dance-floor, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers all rolled into one (before I even heard their names in the ‘Vogue’ rap).
Yet the whispers upon my entering class were not of awe or envy. I knew those whispers even then. These were whispers of confusion. These were the whispers of discomfort. These were the whispers of ridicule. I thought I heard someone say they were girl shoes.
Then, sudden and swift and irrevocable, the onslaught of shame. With reddened face and panicky disposition, I seethed in inner agony. I quickly took my seat and swung my feet under my chair, away from prying eyes. At heads-down time, I peeked under the desks to study the feet around me. Only girls were wearing saddle shoes.
I shrunk in embarrassment. I cringed at the monstrosities on my feet. I’d made a fatal misstep. I who never faltered, who never failed, now felt the hot flush of being the almost-object of ridicule. I felt myself teetering on the brink of becoming ostracized from the only people who seemed to matter. Yet I never let on that those whispers bothered me, or even made it to my ears. I never let on how badly they crushed my ego and destroyed the silly bit of joy I got in those shoes. I never let on that when they tried to break me, they had in fact succeeded.
I didn’t wear the saddle shoes much after that – just a few more times so as not to arouse the suspicion or ire of my frugal parents for not making use of new shoes. They went back into their box, worn only at home or on vacation or where I could be myself and not worry about being chided for it.
Everything I do today, every strange, questionable object I wear, is done in honor of that little boy who was robbed of such joy, held captive for the rest of his boyhood by a gang of innocently cruel children. They were taught by the world to dress like a boy or a girl, and there was never room for anything in-between. Another line between innocence and shame. Another demarcation of growing up. The way we erase our identities to fit in, to feel like we belong – I didn’t know then that it was the very way I would grow to hate myself. It would take years before I returned to my quirky style. Years of khakis and polos, and jeans and sneakers, and trying to be the boy everyone wanted me to be. Years in which I pushed my lovely saddle shoes into the dark recesses of my closet, and the life-loving fun that should comprise every childhood into the hidden recesses of my heart.
