Wednesday, June 30, 2010

J'ai deux fois dix-huit ans

They say it's my birthday!  So what do you want to read more of on this blog?  I can't get into swiping news content and putting it up here, so I'm trying to figure out different ways to make a buck on this blog and have put up a little "subscribe" button on the top right, for $5 a month (not obligatory at all, even if it is my birthday!) But tell me what you'd like more of, or I'll just keep on rambling as usual. 

This past week I've had a few emotional bouts after pulling out the old CD collection and dusting off my favorite DALIDA disc.  I knew I had to pull her out when that dreaded 36th year arrived.  I used to listen to Dalida a lot when I lived in France.  She was Italian, born and raised in Egypt where she was crowned a beauty queen.  She moved to France and soon became a folk singer, a disco queen, an icon.

She's the #1 gay legend.  Catherine Deneuve is big.  There's another French singer --Mylene Farmer -- who is big, too.  The gays love Mylene because she is not afraid to cry.  She is a very emotional woman!  You must hear Mylene's concert LIVE from Bercy.  She's mid-melody and then suddenly breaks-down into a choking sob, struggling to go on.  The queens in the stadium expect this and scream wildly as if Mylene just scored a perfect 10 high dive: You can do it; you can power through Mylene.  Miraculously, she always does.

But the biggest of the big French gay legends has to be Dalida. 
Not solely because she has incredible songs and was a (semi cross-eyed) beauty, but primarily (I truly believe this) because in 1987 Dalida killed herself because she couldn't find true love.  How romantic is that?  Damn, you have got to love the French!

Dalida is buried in the Montmartre cemetery.  Please observe hers, the most fabulous tomb ever:

I have a photo of myself right behind the statue, gently cupping Dalida's breasts, taken in the days before digital photos.  I became a big fan of her music.  Of course she had some stinkers.  Her "Le Lambeth Walk" has to be the most annoying jig ever.  But her greatest hits are seriously great:  Paroles/Paroles, Mourir Sur Scene, Pour ne pas vivre seuele, Gigi L'Amoroso.


In fact, she keeps putting out new discs!  I believe she's sold more music since her death than she did in life.  Her brother Orlando keeps remixing, reimagining and reproducing her hits.  When I lived in Paris, I worked as a server at a restaurant in the Marais, serving the worst French brochettes you can imagine; shirtless with blinking rabbit ears on my head.  Orlando used to come in, wearing a terrible toupee -- and the go-go's would go crazy, my rabbit lights blinked faster, and the restaurant quickly put on a remixed Dalida hit - perhaps Salma ya Salama, or maybe my favorite: Il Venait d'Avoir Dix-Huit Ans.

This song was my favorite because it's a story-song.  "He'd just turned 18 years old" tells the tale of a desperate older woman who met a guy, just barely 18 years old, and Oh - they had some sloppy sex:

Il venait d'avoir dix-huit ans
Il etait beau comme un enfant
fort comme homme
C'etait l'ete evidemment
et j'ai compte en le voyant
mes nuits d'automne
J'ai mis de l'ordre a mes cheveux
un peu plus de noir sur mes yeux
ca l'a fait rire
Quand il s'est approche de moi
j'aurais donne n'importe quoi
pour le seduire
Il venait d'avoir dix-huit ans
C'etait le plus bel argument de sa victoire
Il ne m'a pas parle d'amour
Il pensait que les mots d'amour
sont derisoires
Il m'a dit : "J'ai envie de toi"
Il avait vu au cinema "le ble en herbe"
Au creux d'un lit improvise
j'ai decouvert emerveillee
un ciel superbe
Il venait d'avoir dix-huit ans
ca le rendait presque insolent de certitude
Et pendant qu'il se rhabillait
deja vaincue, je retrouvais ma solitude
J'aurais voulu le retenir
pourtant je l'ai laisse partir
sans faire un geste
Il m'a dit : "c'etait pas si mal"
avec la candeur infernale de sa jeunesse
J'ai mis de l'ordre a mes cheveux
un peu plus de noir sur mes yeux
par habitude
J'avais oublie simplement
que j'avais deux fois dix-huit ans

Allow me to make a bad semi-translation, enough for you to get the crux of this tragic poem:
He had just turned 18 years old.  He was beautiful like a child, strong like a man.  It was obviously summer, and I counted on seeing him my nights of autumn.  

I touched up my hair, put a little more black around my eyes.  That made him laugh. 

When he came near, I would have given anything for him to seduce him.  He didn't speak to me of love, he said words of love were ridiculous.  He said, "I want you".  

Nestled in an improvised bed, I discovered marvelously a superb heaven. 

He had just turned 18 years old.  That made him self-assuredly insolent.  While he got dressed, already conquered, I rediscovered my loneliness. I would have liked him to stay, but I let him go without a gest.
He said, "That wasn't so bad" with the infernal candor of his youth. 

I touched up my hair, put a little more black around my eyes; as usual.  

I'd simply forgotten I was twice 18 years old.

Twice 18 years old!  That was the kicker.  I used to sing this song over and over with my French friend Fabrice and how we laughed at the end.  What a pathetic woman!  We were 23 and could just picture the old hag, putting eyeliner on and thinking she still had it going on.  

I never thought for once back then that I would live to be twice 18 years old, but now I listen to the song and feel for her.  Cougars aren't so funny anymore from where I stand; 36 years old today. 

Gay Pride March New York 2010

The "Mary Mourners" took to the streets to honor our wonderful friend, Anthony Valente, who died suddenly this past January.  Here are some photos of ourefforts.  It meant a lot for us to do something fabulous in his memory.We think he would have loved it.

Here's a selection of the paula bearers...

Cooldan is Stiffany ("I think we're alone now")
Dee Composed
Gloom and Doom
Miss Pearl E. Gates
My fabulous makeup artist Harrison
He created MYRA MAINS!  My first time with DIVINE-esque eyebrows...
Daisy Pusha
Here is Daisy Pusha swatting Myra Mains
Reason for the Season: our dear departed friend Anthony Valente
Our Media Man Derek Coffer!
Miss Lotta Blues
Anita Plot
Bam Bam is Lavinia Hearse
On the roof with Rhoda Will and Dee Composed
Liza Topahim and Stiffany
Chad master-makeup artist#2
Myra Mains and Stiffany work the pole.
Mary Mourners all together now
Stiffany gives Anthony some L*O*V*E
Myra naviates a five floor walk-up. 
These boots are the reason my feet are still bloody! 
We hit Fifth Avenue and infiltrated the parade....
Liza (above, right) is 3 months pregnant---Pregnancy is a CABARET, my friend!  Below, With two of my favorite funny-men: Bruce Vilanch and Frank DeCaro
We all managed to survive. Lavinia, in her purple "Pleaser" pumps, exclaimed at the finish line, "Ten toes, ten toenails!" because usually they fall off in pools of blood.

At the end of the march, we shared an emotional moment meeting up with Anthony's former boyfriend, Xavier.  We love him and were honored he could be a part of our tribute to an amazing man who left us way too soon....

I'll be posting more NY Pride coverage from the Pier Dance, OURsceneTV, and Alegria very soon! 

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Proud MEAT

Happy Gay Pride!  This is NEW YORK -- concrete jungle where dreams are made of, the lights will inspire you, there's nothing you can't do....except get gay married!  Michael Musto has truly outdone himself with this week's La Dolce Musto.  I agree with everything he touches on from thin skins to drag queens.  It should be the gay bill of rights.  Someone better be sculpting his bust for the gay hall of fame!

In other PRIDEFUL news, a huge congratulations to artist Paul Richmond, who's incredible collection "Cheesecake: Accidental Exhibitionism" opened in Chicago to great acclaim!  I'm honored to be hung!  And alongside gay celebrities Jack Mackenroth, Ari Gold, Mike Ruiz, Michael Breyette, Del Shores, Alec Mapa, James St. James, Perez Hilton and more!

"In Hot Pursuit, starring Jesse Archer"
"Size Matters, Starring Jack Mackenroth"

If you're in Chicago, you can still catch the whole Pin-Up she-bang at the Center on Halsted! 

Two nights ago, I hit Tribeca Cinemas for the sold out New York City premiere of my pal Pierre Stefanos' moving and hopeful "Bedfellows".  The audience loved it! 
As always on my malfunctioning blog, click the bottom right of the video to see full screen on Youtube.

With film festival season in full swing, there are a few features I can't wait to catch: Israel Luna's Ticked Off Trannies With Knives, and Lawrence Ferber's Bear City being at the top of my list.  Next month, I'll be heading to Los Angeles and Philadelphia with Violet Tendencies.  We had our New York premiere at closing night of Newfest a couple weeks ago.  It was a thrill to see the film with much of our amazing cast in attendance.
Cast Photo by WilsonModels
 Dennis Hearn, Sam Whitten, Andrea Cirie, Margret Echeverria

Me and Casper Andreas


With Kim Allen.  She is sooooo damn funny in the film.  And she let me motorboat her boobs at the after-party.  Love this girl! 
Oh, and as if by design, the Empire State Building this weekend will be lit up VIOLET this weekend for Pride!  Plus have you seen the top of that building in Union Square---lit up in a rotating rainbow?

Casper is now in Tel Aviv with our film.  Apparently the biggest laugh they got was the actor with one line as a Hasidic Jew out with a young hustler.  This was inspired (as everything is inspired by truth) by a Hasidic Jew I've seen on a number of occasions breeze through the smarmiest of East Village gay bars in his hat and curlycue sideburns.

My friend Sharon told me yesterday that "Pussy" in Yiddish translates to "Meat of Shame".  I am not kidding!!  Isn't it striking how repressive religions all uglify, obfuscate, and shame women?  We need not even go into Muslim women in birka's, but have you seen what Hasidic Jewish women have to wear?  Head over to Williamsburg, or shopping uptown at Lord & Taylor and make no mistake: You will never be sexually attracted to these women.  You almost wish a birka upon them when you see these women sporting the world's most laughably hideous WIGS.  Just because they were born with the meat of shame (and maybe to keep them from smoking, that shit looks flammable!)

In honor of all the men and women who reject anything shameful about any meat they were born with, I'm off today to volunteer for "Rapture on the River" - the lesbian PRIDE party on the pier.  Time to show the ladies some LOVE!

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Coney Island Mermaid Parade & Photos 2010

Coney Island is always good for some old fashioned fun.  Check out the annual Mermaid Parade!
Bam Bam gave me a lecture that morning.  He said that at this point in his life he thought he should have three houses and floor to ceiling windows and it's all my fault we don't.  I told him I'd work harder, longer, stronger so we can have all that.  An hour later I was on the Tilt-a-Whirl with Cooldan.


The newly christened Luna Park ("are you a LUNA-tic?") hearkens back to Coney Island's heyday, but don't be fooled.  The rides are all for amateurs.  Nothing comes close to the neck-wrenching, rickety, still-running relic of Astroland's Cyclone roller coaster

I'm proud to report that the "Shoot the Freak" attraction is still there, where you can shoot moving HUMAN targets.  I love this one.
I'm pretty good at it, too.  And to further prove there is nothing PC about Coney Island....those are minority men of color running around as the targeted "freaks".  Call the ACLU!

We hit the beach with every last kid in Brooklyn. 
Cooldan and I were fasting at the time, which was really difficult when passing mermaids devouring Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs.   
The route along Surf Avenue is way too crowded (see above: couldn't even get a Nathan's if we WERE allowed!) The Mermaid Parade is always amazing, it's an organic; ahome-grown slapdash affair.  If I had to describe it succinctly: tubby mermaids wriggling in fins on the back of a flatbed truck.  In other words, must-see.

This year was all about oil slick mutant mermaids and mermaids rising up against the BP oil gushing in the gulf. This gave many a mermaid the excuse to skimp on her costume.  Slather some grease over that clam-shell bra and call it a day.  We hit the Boardwalk where the parade peters out and the aquatic life blends back into the crowds.  
 TAR-iffic!
 


For a bit of nostalgia, the Flea Circus
Give Mr. Anemone a hand!
HAWT boy
HAWT girl!