As my grandmother used to say without too
much judgement, "You know the gays...they're everywhere."
She would sit watching
The Mike Douglas Show on television, watching Johnny Mathis perform and remark, "Hmm, he's so attractive and he's
at least thirty, never been married...do you think?" She never finished that sentence but we all knew what she was trying
to say, especially me, who had a major crush on Mr. Mathis!
Now I'm not one of those gays who thinks
that everyone else in the world is gay or that they should be but there are times when I find myself in a world that I
can only described as, "Gay, Gay, Gayer Than Gay! "
Shhh – I Miss The Gay Stereotype
I know I shouldn’t
admit it, more importantly I shouldn’t even say it but say it I must. Shhh – I miss the gay stereotype. Now before
you all get your panties in a bunch, hear me out. It’s not that I miss everything about the swishy gestures and lisping,
it’s just the flouncy, bouncy – fun, fun, fun, fun I tend to miss.
One of the things that I think has always made
Jews great comedians is that they see the humor not only in the world around them but in themselves. I’m sure it’s
some sort of self preservation but I think even in the death camps (that Hitler owned) there was some laughter, if only as
a way to stay sane. Let’s face it, we’ve all had really bad days and I’ve always found it best to laugh
or to at least try to find a way to laugh at the situation.
I read gay sites, magazines, give to gay charities and so I feel as though
I’m a responsible gay man in this day and age but there’s a real part of me that just wants to go back to the
times when all you had to do was rush home to see Paul Lynde in that center square to know that you were not alone in the
world. No matter what the friends, historians and apparently Mr. Lynde said, the world knew he was gay and while the housewives
enjoyed him in spite of his gayness, others of us enjoyed him because we knew his “secret” and knew ours was just
about as thinly veiled of a veneer as the one he wore. His pursed lips and head bob with an always stinging remark made us
laugh and I’m not so ashamed to say that they still make me laugh. You see, like Mr. Lynde, when I was in high school
I thought I was convincing everyone I was straight. Imagine my surprise when I had more than one person (in fact, several
people) come up to me at my twenty year high school reunion and tell me how brave they always thought I was for just “being
myself” through high school. True, it was a little disheartening to know that I wasn’t as good of an actor as
I’d thought or wanted to be but it was amazing to have even guys who beat me up or called me names apologize and tell
me how brave they thought that I was during those four years.
I know I’m supposed to be running around picking out color choices for
the flowers at my guy to guy wedding (no, I’m not getting married any time soon) and fighting to get the “right”
candidate in the White House who will maybe allow us gays a few crumbs off the political table but sometimes I just want to
laugh. That’s right. We gays have become too serious, too dare I say it? Like the counterparts we once were proud to
be different from. I guess we’re trying so hard to seem like our straight counterparts so that they won’t be so
afraid of us when we want to adopt children or get married but I also don’t want to see us lose our Joie de Vivre.
There are a lot of things
I’ll do to get the right to visit my mate in a hospital or get tax breaks but I won’t (no, it’s not won’t
so much as I can’t) become straight for the privileges that I should have just like anyone else just for being a human
being and an American. I still laugh at Paul Lynde, Charles Nelson Riley and “Jack” from Will and Grace when an
episode is on and I’m not ashamed of it a bit.
Believe
me when I say that I get it when my gay counterparts turn up their nose at the swishy gays who say, “Girl” a little
too loudly in a crowded area to get attention. That’s not me either but isn’t it nice that we aren’t all
exactly the same? Isn’t that difference (and all differences) we’re supposed to be celebrating and teaching our
children to celebrate? And isn’t it about time that we let gays know that they can bulk up their bodies as much as they
want to but it’s not going to make them less gay? Sure, it may give them the illusion of the stereotype of masculinity
but masculinity and being a man are two different things and don’t always live in the same body. Yet good for them if
that’s what they need to make them happy.
Look, I don’t expect everyone to be accepting of everyone else immediately.
(I still find it difficult to think of thugs who breed pit bulls for dog fights and to prove their masculinity as anything
but sub-humans) Yet by the way, when most people vote they actually give these people more rights than me because they’ll
take their dog home to someone of the opposite sex.
I didn’t mean to get on a soapbox here. Actually I started out to talk
about the fun that seems to be passing us by in our never ending need to pass as “normal.” But you see perhaps
I’m at a disadvantage as I’ve known I wasn’t normal for a long time. I never wanted to be a fireman or a
cowboy, I wanted to be a performer and before the days of reality television shows, let me tell you that it made me very different
from most of the people I went to school with every day. So I grew up embracing the fact that I was different instead of thinking
it was wrong. In fact, I couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to be anything else but on television – and
now, some thirty years later I find out everyone DOES want to be on television.
Look, I’m not asking for a pansy hall of fame but there were trailblazers who amazingly enough made careers for themselves
being themselves in a time before Perez Hilton was “outing” everyone or before even Bravo became a network. Well,
at least these people were showing us versions of themselves to make us laugh. I understand this too. You see, I’m not
always raising an eyebrow and trying to make people laugh. In fact there are things I write in these pages that are a character
I created not too different from the character Wayland created, Madame. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t
a part (no matter how small) in all of my writing.
It’s time for us to begin to get gay again. Gay in the sense of
the original sense of the word, “happy.” And the way to be happy is to not forget to laugh at the ridiculousness
of life and some people’s reactions to us. I’m proud to be gay but I’m just as proud to be a fop and while
the word “fop” begins with an “f” it doesn’t end in “fag.”
If you’re like me at
all, you find yourself watching things on cable that you would never have gone to a theater to see or gone to a video store
to rent and yet when it comes on you can’t help yourself. Like some awful car accident, you just can’t look away.
I remember the first one of these that I had to watch every time it came on. I’m not proud of it but I have seen the
movie Notting Hill more than anyone in the world. If you ask me why I can’t even tell you really, it’s awful and
the acting is awful and yet I watch it whenever it comes on. There, I’ve gotten that off of my chest and feel a little
better.
Well currently
on cable they’re playing You Can’t Stop The Music. That awful 80’s film starring none other than the Village
People. If you’ve never seen it, I tell you that when it comes on you must stop and watch it. It’s the worst movie
in the world – not helped by the Village People themselves (who can’t act) but they get a run for the worst acting
award in their co-stars of Valerie Perrine and Bruce Jenner. (Yes, I said it, Bruce Jenner – wait ‘til you see
him in a crop top and shorty shorts!)
The very odd thing about this movie is that it is amazingly gay for its time. The YMCA number where they show
completely naked men in showers and Valerie Perrine’s naked breasts in the Jacuzzi are enough to make your jaw drop
(as mine did). Sure in today’s movies and television this may seem tame but remember people that at the time you had
a President in office who was ignoring the AIDS crisis, passing it off as the “Gay Cancer” (Which sounds like
someone I dated once who had his birthday in July – but I digress) and gays were not as “out” as they are
now.
The other reason
to watch this movie is to help the guys in the movie. As a once “supporting” actor in a horrible movie in the
late eighties, I still get residual checks when it plays on cable. Sure one was for 17 cents after taxes but the last one
was a whopping $67! So support the actors, the days when gays were really gay and I dare you not want to get your groove thing
on while listening to the soundtrack!
Are you craving more Some Like It Scott Gay, Gay, Gayer
Than Gay stories and more?
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Visit the Gay, Gay, Gayer Than Gay Page Archives by clicking below!
American Idol (7)
– The Gay, Gay, Gay, Gayer Than Gay Season Finale!
I stopped really writing about television shows or current events because invariably someone reads
it months (or in my case, years later) and then they write to me to tell me that I was wrong (as the person really DID end
up staying in rehab, got divorced, etc.) and frankly it just makes me look bad but dear God, I watched the finale of American
Idol last night and just couldn’t resist. I don’t care how much they tried to butch it up with the whole boxing
match theme, there’s no getting around this one kids, it was the gay, gay, gayer than gay finale!
Never mind for a moment about the contestants. I’m not
the next Perez Hilton (nor do I aspire to be – frankly the thought of being in his weight class makes me shutter) however,
you have the young sensitive boy and then the rocker with a receding hairline supposedly fixed by the “fucked up, I
don’t give a care but spent fourteen hours to make it look this way hairdo” with too much eyeliner on. So think
what you will about these boys but they definitely helped the gayness factor.
Let’s look at the “regulars” on the show. Unfortunately Ryan Seacrest has become
so dull that the question isn’t whether or not he’s gay so much as to whether or not he’ll ever be able
to eat solid food again. He’s certainly gay thin but is losing his appeal as his head becomes so big looking compared
to his body that he’s become a bobble head of himself. Nope, Ryan does not add to the gay factor, he’s too asexual
at this point. Does anyone want to sleep with him, um…no.
Next up you have the judges. Well, try as he might Randy Jackson with the weight loss surgery and
his yoyo up and down weight (which makes him more of a fag hag than a gay) however between the kooky clothes and all the jewelry,
he can “dog” all he wants but he’s so fussy about his appearance – um, hello…gay. Paula Abdul
is the closest thing that this generation has to Judy Garland. Oh don’t think for one moment I’m saying she’s
as talented as Garland but she has that sort of diva drug through the mud now on drugs kind of sadness that the gays seem
to flock to more than a sale at Barney’s. Finally you have the old queen, Simon. Though I almost always agree and think
his criticism is dead on, let’s face it, could he be any more of a bitchy queen the way he wears the t-shirts that are
too tight so you see his man boobs, his constant discontent and disdain for everything and his general, “I’m better
than this” kind of attitude? Honey, you’re ten minutes away from judging drag shows!
Now God knew what he was doing when he invented Tivo. I was
able to watch all two hours in about 15 minutes. I don’t care to see all the cruise ship/ Up With People performances
like the kids all singing together or the solos from past Idol losers. I do have to say that the Michael and Carly duet was
great. But all this filler in a show that has so little content just gets duller than dull real quick.
Up to the guest stars. Well, the recent articles floating about
the Internet letting everyone know (no surprise) that the Dancing With The Stars production team do everything they can to
NOT have gay boys on the show. (In a desperate attempt to try to appeal to what they think Middle America wants and because
ballroom dancing is such a butch art form anyway.) And I hate to tell the producers but I think there are some green card
marriages and some what we used to call when I worked there, “Disney Marriages” – these would be women who
are married to gay men but somehow they think they’re fooling everyone yet they’re only fooling themselves. But
I digress…so onto the gay guest stars. I don’t know how much gayer you can get than bringing on Donna Summer
and George Michael. If that doesn’t make a gay clutch their pearls in shock and delight, I don’t know what will.
I’m not quite sure how she’s doing it but somehow Donna Summer’s looks have not changed since someone left
the cake out in the rain. I know “black don’t crack” but she’s ridiculously fabulous looking. George
Michael unfortunately hasn’t been afforded the same ease in aging. Time (and public restrooms) have not been as kind
to him. Is it just me or has he somehow lost his once fabulous jaw line? Even with the now signature unshaven look, his jaw
looks sunken in as if he’s missing some teeth or something. Could it be from chipping his tooth on the porcelain of
urinal 5? I don’t know but between that the sunglasses that took up most of his face, we really can’t be sure
if it was George Michael or just someone who sort of looks like him, can lip sync like him and was wearing big glasses.
So there you have it. If you don’t see
the show this way, the easy answer to you is that you are sooooooooo wrong. Honey it was like watching a cabaret act from
Fire Island that was transported to Provincetown by way of the Emerald City. So while Dancing With The Stars tries to deny
their gayness, at least American Idol seems to be embracing theirs!
The
Gay, Gay, Gayer Than Gay, Gay Guy Engaged To The Girl In The Next Booth!
I was shocked. Okay, not so much shocked maybe as just stunned
that in this day and age people are still unwilling or unknowing about their sexuality and the many options open to them (and
aren’t open about it for whatever reason). There we sat in a diner in a small college town in Delaware, me and my pal
Betsy (whom I’d done theatre with for years and years). Behind Betsy sat this girl and then a couple came in (male and
female). Within seconds of them sitting down we knew a few things from their very loud conversation and the proximity of everything
in this tiny diner. The one girl was obviously in town just for the holidays visiting as we heard her say, “I can’t
believe I haven’t been back all semester to see you guys.” This was not difficult to pick up or hear. Just as
audible was the fact that the couple began talking excitedly about the Broadway musicals they had seen recently. To say they
were gushing is an understatement and all that we could be sure of was that these kids were indeed musical theatre majors
and as the male in the couple had used the words, “fabulous” followed up with “I’m telling you, I
was absolutely dying!” and a few other very “s” ridden sentences (putting “S’s” in words
that don’t even have an “S” in them) made it clear we had a gay sitting in this booth behind us.
But then my stomach went
into knots as I noticed the girl in the couple wearing an engagement ring. At first I thought that perhaps she wasn’t
engaged to the gay boy she was sitting next to but then it all came out (even if he wasn’t going to) that they wouldn’t
be able to visit the friend wherever it was that she lived because they were saving for their wedding. He put an uncomfortable
arm around her shoulders and there you have it, the gay, gay, gayer than gay guy was engaged to the girl in the next booth!
We sat there rolling our eyes as if we were going into some psychic trance. Now let me say that these kids were loud (come
on, have you ever been around musical theatre majors?) and the diner was small so there was no way we were not going to hear
the whole thing going on. (Not that we both aren’t up for some good table eavesdropping on occasion.)
Now what you need to
know is that my pal Betsy is what I have lovingly called, “The Gay Magnet” because in the twenty-something years
we’ve known one another she has never ceased to amaze me with her unconscious ability to have the gay or gays in a cast
of a show or just your garden variety gays (whether they are in or out of the closet) immediately attach themselves to her.
It’s some strange power that can only be explained like when you were a kid and you would spend hours being amazed at
the iron filings jumping onto a magnet. Thus the term, “gay magnet” was born and believe me when I say she is
one.
I found the scene of the gay boy and his bride-to-be sad but Betsy was visibly torn over the whole thing. As her back was
to the couple and I could see them plainly it may have made a bit of a difference as she was just hearing this boy squeal
at the talk of clothes, the plans for the wedding and the musical Grease like a radio show from the 1940’s. We had gone
to have breakfast and catch up but all we could do was listen and shake our heads in disbelief. We barely even noticed when
our Taye Diggs look-alike waiter came to the table with our eggs that took over forty minutes to make (no doubt they had been
delayed because either he had to wait for the chickens to lay the eggs or he was doing a fashion shoot in the kitchen). Finally
Betsy says, “I think I have to tell her.” Now we had talked a little bit about her family, my family and mutual
friends but I knew that this comment had nothing to do with any of those people and everything to do with the girl in the
next booth with the tiny engagement ring and the big gay guy she was engaged to marry. Betsy went on to say how much pain
and suffering she could save the girl. I mean, come on, there’s no way that this is going to have a happy ending. Sure
it may take a year or two before the ugliness happens but there’s no doubt that at some point this girl is going to
be sat down and told by her husband that his friend Steven is more than just a friend. How can you not feel badly for the
girl? (And for the boy if he’s in complete denial about the situation?) Let alone how badly I feel for the girl’s
parents who are no doubt going to lay down a chunk of money on a wedding that is clearly going to be the start and finish
of their little girl.
And so we sat there, eating our eggs and wondering if we told this girl what was to befall her if she would even listen.
We came to the conclusion that she would never listen to complete strangers. Perhaps that was our get out of guilt free card,
deciding that no matter what we said, we were going to just be two strangers telling her that her boyfriend was gay and surely
she would not believe us. I did think for awhile that perhaps we could go into some sort of social work as between Betsy’s
magical magnetic gay powers and my own years of field experience (as they say) we can tell a gay from two miles away on a
foggy night. Perhaps we needed to start a service for the poor unfortunate girls who should know better but don’t for
some reason. The one thing was clear to us and that was that we couldn’t say anything to this girl even though we were
simply dying to, more than you’ll ever know. We didn’t want to crush her, we wanted to save her but alas, we knew
it was not to be.
I think what amazed me more than anything was that in this day and age there are still people out there unable to be true
to themselves and live their genuine lives (I read that term in an article based on a self help book once – have no
idea what it means but sounds so great, right?) I mean, we’re in the day and age where you can’t pick up a paper
or even look at news online where there isn’t at least one story each day in the news about the gays. I don’t
care if it’s about gays in the military, gays trying to get the rights to get married or some loon protesting about
gays telling us that we’re responsible for everything from the September 11th attacks to the end of the world
(which is apparently right around the corner and will be done in a light lilac color – you know how the gays love anything
lilac colored!) My point is that I always like to think that us forty-something gays have made it easier on the next generation
of gays. (As well as the women who fall in love with them) But I guess as long as there are gays and girls who want to believe
they can either “turn” them or just fall so head over heels that they don’t see their fiancé is wearing
their heels this unfortunate tradition is going to continue.
Look, I’ve had friends who were married to women and when the whole thing crumbled the ex-wife
wanted so much nothing to do with the guy and who could blame her right? But on some level don’t you think that these
girls/women know somewhere deep down that they are married to a gay? (Yes, I’m including Mrs. McGreevey ex-first lady
of New Jersey) Trust me when I say I’m more than aware just how powerful denial can be. I mean some days when I look
in the mirror and see that gray haired man staring back at me from the mirror all I can think is that it must be some sort
of trick mirror. After all, I’m Peter Pan, dammit!
But as easy as it was for us to come to the conclusion that this kid was gay
in the next booth, even if the girl with the stars in her eyes couldn’t see it does she not have any friends or family
who are telling her she needs to re-think this whole thing? Maybe they have tried, maybe they’ve suggested a longer
engagement in hopes one of them will come clean. But there’s a part of me that is saying that come summer there’s
a gonna be a wedding complete with sponge cake and spiked punch and that the best man and the groom are going to come out
of their waiting room a little disheveled looking having just done something in the church rectory to one another in a personal
area that begins with the letters, “rec”. I hope not for all their sakes but I gotta tell you that every alarm
went off even for the short time we were sitting next to these kids. Let’s face it, something age does give you is a
pair of x-ray glasses (like the ones that used to be advertised in the back of the comic books we read) when it come to certain
things. And this is one of them. But here’s to shoes and rice and the gay, gay, gayer than gay guy engaged to the girl
in the booth sitting next to us!
Read the Some Like It Scott Interview with... RUPAUL!!!
Click
on the Starrbooty poster below!
The Gay,
Gay, Gayer Than Gay Gift Giving Guide
(Or how to shop for your gay friends and relations)
Are you worried about that gift you need to buy for the gay in your life?
Do you wonder if it’s the right color for this season? Are you asking yourself if brown really is the new black? Are
you not sure if it’s fabulous enough? Do you think it has to be gay themed or made by someone who is gay for them to
like it? Or are you just completely stumped? Well, as someone whose grandmother never went to someone’s house for dinner
where she didn’t pick up the china to see who made it (the same thing with gifts), let me help you through these pink,
prickly waters to pick the perfect present! (Don’t you just love alliteration?)
While I know it’s hard to believe there are some gays out there who
don’t love musical theatre. I know, I know, I don’t trust these gays (and I have to believe that they have a closet
full of old soundtracks from The Rink and the Tommy Tune version of Bye, Bye Birdie) but I must acknowledge that they are
out there…and lying. So the first thing you should cross off your list are Broadway soundtracks and there are two reasons
for doing this, 1) the gay probably all ready has it and 2) this is the stocking stuffer or little present the boyfriend always
gets for the gay because 1) he knows what’s missing in the collection and 2) it doubles his own Broadway collection
without having to say he’s buying it for himself. Now buying Broadway tickets is another story though you have to deal
with dates and where they like to sit, okay, I take it back, don’t buy tickets.
On a budget? Childhood gifts always hit the right note. While some gays
may not have had a wonderful childhood, most remember the games of youth fondly so a retro gift of either Kerplunk, Lite Brite
or the new deluxe edition of Clue is always a safe and good bet. (They also are the easiest thing in the world to re-gift
– you never have to worry if it’s outdated like that gift basket from Hickory Farms you got last year and you’re
desperately trying to see a date on the cheese log without unwrapping it so you can give it to someone this year.) While these
types of gifts may seem kitchy, they’re always a hit and solicit so many “oohs” and “ahhs” when
opened because everyone in the room has a different memory of these games. While Cousin Mary is thinking about when she lost
the block Kerplunk championship, your gay recipient is thinking about that time when next door neighbor Timmy dressed up like
Miss Scarlett and had him in the dining room with his lead pipe!
If it looks expensive but it’s not, it’s good gift giving (not Chiffon, the old butter
substitute). Though chiffon material is usually used for this article of clothing for women, a good scarf can go a long way.
That’s right you don’t have to worry about wool or acrylic. As long as it is soft, has a nice pattern and comes
in a nicely wrapped box your worries are over. The reason a scarf is so good to gift is that they look more expensive than
they usually are (go for the cashmeresque one – feels like cashmere but no cashmeres lost their lives to make it –
imagine how “green” you’ll seem for that choice?) you don’t have to worry about the size as it’s
one size fits all, it’s the girlyest men’s accessory that’s acceptable to wear and nine times out of ten
the gay will put it on immediately, jauntily throwing one end over the opposite shoulder and while his hand is up on his shoulder
and his face turned in profile, it always makes for the perfect holiday photo of a gay. Be warned, if after opening the box
they take the scarf out and kvell more over the box than the scarf itself, it’s going to an ex-boyfriend in a different
box by the end of the week. (This way he rarely has to see it and at the same time it forces the ex to wear it every time
they see one another because he still feels guilty for the indiscretion that ended the relationship…the night the gay
came home one night to find the ex with a go go boy who was wearing nothing but the gay’s underwear screaming, “Ugh,
these are really your boyfriend’s? I’m swimming in them like they’re grandma panties! I didn’t know
you were a chubby chaser! What the hell are you doing with me? I’m as gay thin as they come! Hey let’s see if
we can both fit in them at the same time!”)
Finally, don’t go for the overtly gay cliché gifts. You know which ones I’m talking
about. As we speak I have a box filled with the naked man ironing board cover, the “his and his” towel set and
a gay marriage bar of soap that has two plastic guys in tuxedos in it that is a bit like the old owl in the tootsie pop commercial
– “How many licks does it take to get to the center? One, <slurp>, two <slurp>, three <drop>
- THREE, three slurps til you drop the soap and someone gets to your center” (or at least it feels that way). No, find
the clever gifts that are more worthy of “wink, wink, nudge, nudge status” those always raise an eyebrow and a
chuckle. When it comes to these gifts, no one does it better than my pals Phyllis and Tim at MikWright ( www.mikwright.com )! Whether it be a mug that has the photo of a guy with his foot up and the boat
behind him largely displaying the word, “Queen” with the phrase under it “say no more.” Or a coaster
with little ol’ me on it in drag when I was six with the phrase “morty, it’s time to have a word with your
son…again.” Everyone loves these types of gifts and no one has to feel uncomfortable when they’re opened
in mixed company. Because those who know will get it and those who don’t teach, I mean preach, I mean…well, they’ll
just smile and nod and go along with the crowd!
The most important thing to remember when gifting for gays is that not all gays are considered equal
(and not just in the eyes of the law). That’s right, although they may be gay, feel no pressure that they may be more
critical than straights because as we all know, gays are easily distracted and attracted to shiny objects (how else do you
explain Christopher Radko ornaments?). And remember that some things are cliché because they’re true. If you
give a Swiss army knife to a gay they’ll always be the most impressed by the tiny nail file. If you give them cake or
food they’ll never eat it because they’re trying to become or stay gay thin. But if you give them any of the above
they’ll love you forever because good gift giving means never having to put a gift receipt in the box!
Look, I’m not asking for a pansy hall of fame but there were trailblazers who amazingly enough made careers for themselves
being themselves in a time before Perez Hilton was “outing” everyone or before even Bravo became a network. Well,
at least these people were showing us versions of themselves to make us laugh. I understand this too. You see, I’m not
always raising an eyebrow and trying to make people laugh. In fact there are things I write in these pages that are a character
I created not too different from the character Wayland created, Madame. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t
a part (no matter how small) in all of my writing. 
