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March 28, 2007
GLAAD [Love] Handled
I know you want the dish on the NY GLAAD awards of Monday, March 26 where I was awarded a Pioneer Award and I know it’s already Wednesday, but I was trashed on Tuesday from all the loving. And the pre-show fluffing, of course. How did Rona Barrett do it all those years?
Before the show, at home it was like getting ready for Prom in this house. I managed to talk my dear partner and co-pioneer, into wearing a traditional Indian kurta pajama but not the bindi on her forehead. She looked gorgeous and, though she will never admit it, was the most comfortably dressed of everyone at the event. She was total arm candy. I wore a black suit. I know you are shocked.
The flashing cameras on the red carpet are like having a walking optical migraine and make you appreciate how it’s quite understandable that occasionally your big stars can get a little testy with the paparazzi. I was ably led through the whole thing by Michael my official GLAAD handler and Michele Karlsberg, with a K, my publicist who might also have scored a home makeover with the ubiquitous Queer Eye guys.
The dinner at the Marriot Marquis was sold out to the rafters making it difficult for our intrepid waiters. I was a schmooze operator. My good friends the choreographer Elizabeth Streb and her Air America dreamboat Laura Flanders; theater maven Harriet Levy and her playwriting partner Carol Kaplan; lesbo comic Judy Gold and her fabulous find on Time Out New York Personals [really!]; Kate Moira Ryan the playwright of Judy’s GLAAD award winning play; Michele and her squeeze Vicky, and actress Cynthia Nixon and her fabulous babe, the union organizer Christine Marioni were at my table. Urvashi was at another table close to me – private time – and her table was rocking with more friends and new acquaintances: the downtown real and raw actress, Shelly Mars; the brilliant sociologist and party boy, Juan Battle; Deerfield Academy teacher and lacrosse coach, Kim Wright – among others.
Cynthia presented the award to me in such a beautiful tribute, I asked Streb sitting next to me who she was talking about. Many awards were given to the mainstream media for their positive coverage of the GLBT community. They respond well to awards. Just as GLAAD has reached out to the huge Hispanic viewing media, I hope soon they will reach out to the gay media which is more a part of the mainstream than ever before. Of course we know we are the headwaters, but let the mainstream have their little illusion.
One of the highlights of the night was when Rosie O’Donnell, in accepting her deserved award for the wonderful documentary of her Family Cruise line, lauded the work of Billie Jean King portrayed in the HBO documentary. She rightly praised Billie for her grand career and feminist principles. I had a tear in me eee.
The evening ended with an extended, surreal moment of Patti Labelle meeting her award presenter, Dreamgirls Jennifer Hudson, but it was all worth it when they spontaneously took the microphones and ripped their way through an impromptu gospel duet.
After a brief moment at the after party emceed by Junior Vasquez, we rode back uptown with Cynthia and Christine and agreed we should try to make a more intimate dinner date next time.
PS –On 4/21 watch for the Award Show on LOGO!
March 16, 2007
Happy St. Patty's Day
And a Happy St. Patrick’s Day Bog to you! Christine Quinn, NYC’s openly lesbian City Council president is not welcomed to march in New York’s St. Patty’s parade. She’s been invited by the mayor of Dublin to march in their parade. Good on her!
This just in:
Brrrrrrrrrring! Brrrrrrrrrrring! Another late night drop-off to a Slur Rehab located at a secure, undisclosed location somewhere in the frozen tundra of northern Minnesota. Open 24-7. An admissions counselor who requested anonymity because of the incredible stupidity of his job, said it has been very busy lately. “We’ve had Michael R., Mel G., Isaiah W. and Tim H. here. They were all treated and released. Joe B. was treated on an out-patient basis during Articulate, Bright, Clean, Good-Looking Black History Month. We welcome the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Peter P.”
Last week’s admission, Ann C. was a hopeless case, not because her homophobia was untreatable, but because it was misdiagnosed. While there were traces of homophobia, said a counselor who requested anonymity because it was so mortifying to work there, “For her, bigotry is just good business. Truthfully? I don’t think she believes half the crap she says.” Although court-of-public-opinion-ordered, C. was not admitted to the facility because she arrived with seventeen camera crews to document her anonymous treatment. Other patients wore their Slur Rehab hoodies low just to get to their mid-morning session entitled, “How to get the Mea back in your Mea Culpas.”
The presiding counselor, who requested anonymity due to his own sexual preference, said “Peter P’s case poses real challenges. He has no remorse for his statement and in fact feels victimized for his deeply held opinion of the immorality of homosexuality.” In a radio interview, Major P. who oversees the daily conduct of an immoral, five year old war, had opined that homosexuality is immoral, much like adultery. “Adultery! Which we can’t do because we can’t get married either,” added his fuming case worker who requested anonymity because he had been a partner of the presiding counselor for years.
In a separate news item, it was announced late this morning that Major Peter Pace has been nominated for the Golden Slurpee for “Gay Activist of the Year”. “It’s early in the year, but we haven’t seen gay people this organized since Anita Bryant tried to get gay teachers tossed out of Florida public schools,” said the owner of the highly profitable chain of slur rehabs, who nonetheless asked to remain anonymous due to the high rate of recidivism in his programs.
March 09, 2007
Happy International Woman's Day
And three cheers to the national Concerned Women for America for putting out a press release defending Ann Coulter, claiming that she had said “bag it” not “faggot”. Yes, that’s right, John Edwards is a big ole bag it. They did not specify paper or plastic.
Methinks Girl Gone Wild Coultermania has Karl Rove all over it. Hey, one woman’s conspiracy theory is another man’s history. While cable heads debate 24-7 curtailing the use of the F-bomb and the N-bomb, without a mention of free speech, our eyes are turned from I. Lewis Libby and the more inconvenient truth about death-defying Dick Cheney. I, Kate Clinton, say it’s no coinky dink. I want Libby to do his time in Gitmo. I want him to have the same habeas corpus delecti as those detainees. He’d look great in an orange onesie.
Or perhaps the I. Scoot could exchange it for a candy-striper onesie and do some community service at Walter Reed Hospital? Talk about Notes on a Scandal. [Sidebar: I just wanted to say to Judi Densch, “Judi, Judi, Judi, watch Cybil Shepherd on the L-Word; see how it’s done.”]
Support the troops, indeed.
What were we thinking? After WOMD lies, Katrina “rebuilding”, Mission Accomplished - that the VA was being run right? Heckuva job, Surgio, heckuva job. I used to whine that these last months of Bush felt like the longest of my life, but they are nothing compared to the hospital time that our dear wounded veterans are enduring. For them, the yellow Support the Troop ribbons really are infinity symbols.
Bush and Cheney give new meaning to the Year of the Pig. They keep giving us completely extraordinary renditions of the world. This International Women’s Day I’m having a big bonfire with the obscene number of Bush bashing books I’ve bought over the years. You know what porcine pair I’d like to put on a spit over the pit in a lulu of luau. Enough. I’m making room on my shelves for the post-Bush stories we all better be ready to write. The Bush Legacy: Cleanup on Aisle 5, etc.
March 08, 2007
WARNING: This is an Ann Coulter free space
Whether you are talking for her or against her, you’re still talking about her. Nothing makes her happier, so enough.
Road Notes:
Have I already told you how much I love Seattle? I love it. The beauty, the food, the folks. Paul Bauer, a proud civic booster and long-time producer friend picked me up at Sea-Tac in his black El Camino. He and his car are very popular with parking attendants. We vroomed into town, past the gorgeous library and city hall. At the hotel I took some industrial strength cold medicine to mask the gross effects of a pesky cold and then it was off to the 100 year old Moore Theater for a fun-filled Saturday night show. My great grandmother’s name was Mary Monica Monahan Moore, so I felt right at home.
After the show, Paul and I made our traditional pilgrimage to the fabulous Flying Fish restaurant in the jumping Bell Town section of Seattle. Get the coconut shrimp. I hadn’t really been able to taste anything all day. Until then. The restaurant is woman-owned. Heck, the state is woman-owned! The two state senators and the governor are a trifecta of feminism.
Paul graciously took me to my 8am flight to LA where I got to spend some time with my fabulous goddaughter, Sophie, who is getting as tall as me. Her mom, Leslie and I went to the amazing WACK feminist art retrospective at the Geffen Museum. Even though Geffen dissed Hillary, go see it if you can.
Unlike Paul, I’m not a car hound, so I rented a sensible white Ford Focus for my trip to Palm Spings. Nothing gives me greater perverse pleasure than handing those car keys to the mandatory and ubiquitous LA valet parker. I drove into Palm Springs through a vale of hundreds of slowly rotating, huge white windmills. So dreamy and surreal. My community housing was with old pals Ginny Foat and Pam Genvereno. Ginny and I go back to 1983 National N.O.W. and Pam is and old friend and former owner of the Pied Piper in Ptown.
The show at the beautiful Annenberg Theatre was great fun. I think I got them warmed up for the Dinah Shore tournament in two weeks. Next day it was back west to Pasadena, again by those windmills, and the world’s largest outlet mall Camazon or Amazon or something, to emcee the Gill Foundation’s OutGiving Conference.
Reminder: Daylight Savings is three weeks early this year. It’s one of His Extreme Lameduckness’s energy saving ideas. He’s not the fall guy. He’s the spring guy. If it means I see his face one hour less three weeks sooner, I’m down with it.
March 07, 2007
INDWELLING: Living in a Female Body
Please join Kate on 3/24 for this great event.
VENUE: The Great Hall at Cooper Union, NYC
TICKETS: www.wtci-nyc.org
FOR MORE INFO: wtcinyc@mac.com
The Women's Therapy
Centre Institute at www.wtci-nyc.org
www.womenmarchforth.org
March 01, 2007
Kate Blogs her way onto Ourchart.com
Check out Kate's Guestbian blog on the L Word site - OurChart.com
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