Author: fightmasterwrites

Thank you all for the gifts and the flowers, Thank you all, now it’s back to the showers, Don’t tell Adam, but I’m not getting married today

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!

It was summer, August 2017.

I was at work, when two regulars walked into the restaurant.

I seat them, and ask how they’d been doing.

We chatted for a few minutes when they handed me a gift bag with a bottle of wine in it.

I asked them what this was for, and they said for your wedding.

I said, whose wedding.

Yours.

I said, I don’t think I’m getting married.

They explained, that the last time they’d dined with us, that I’d said we were going to be closed the following weekend for a wedding.

They thought I meant MY wedding.

I assured them, that I had not in fact gotten married.

We laughed out loud about the misunderstanding.

Then they handed me the bottle and said, for when you do get married.

It was a very expensive bottle of rose.

For the next few weeks, every time they were in we had a good laugh.

Then the restaurant closed, and I haven’t seen them since.

I’m calm, I’m calm, I’m perfectly calm!

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!

Our queer little show closed tonight.

In case you weren’t paying attention, it’s a group of lesbians, who perform skits and songs as drag kings. I’ve had a couple of friends say they were expecting a something along the lines of a drag queen show. This isn’t anything like that.

It’s a full two-hour show. Filled with scenes about irreverent things that we shouldn’t find funny but we do. Think Book of Mormon with drag queens. They walk right up to the line, but never cross it. In fact, we have lots of discussions about whether it’s cool to say or do things. Conversations about consent, audience response, and whether it’s funny or just crude. Sometimes it’s both.

This show, also had two dance groups with us. Friends of the family so to speak. It was a lot of fun, lighting their pieces as I haven’t lit dance in a long time. I was able to do a lot with the 60 or so instruments in the air. I got lucky with the plot from the last group, as we don’t hang and move very little. We change some color and hope for the best.

Tonight’s performance was a little tricky for me.

I started to have a panic attack just as the show started.

For absolutely no reason.

My heart was racing. My hands were shaking. I was a little out of it.

It’s tricky to push buttons on a light board with your left hand, when it already shakes. Oh, and I’m right handed, but that hand was running sound. Add to that, the effects of a panic attack and my hand was insane. So insane that at the end of the first number I hit the go button twice. I was ahead a cue. Then I went back. Then I tried to figure out where we were with the scene change, and as I’m doing that, the curtain opens with work light. Then I hit the button again, and did it twice again. Finally, we were in the right cue, at the right place, and the rest of the light cues for the act were better than ever. But my heart was till racing.

The light cues were correct.

But I get the video ready to play for the end of the act number, hit play and the video starts. It has about 30 seconds of black with just music. I undouse at the end the 30 seconds and there is no video. And I have no idea why it’s not playing. The person on stage is supposed to be lit by the video. She is in static. The music is playing. I’m sitting there hyperventilating.

Finally, about 90 seconds into it, I fade the music. Bring up the house lights and say, motherfucker!!!

One of the kings comes up to the booth, and we hit play and motherfucker, it worked just like it should have. There was absolutely nothing that I did wrong.

We ended up showing the video at the beginning of Act 2, which I think worked better.

The audience was very forgiving, my friends were very forgiving. Adam came up at intermission and gave me a hug. Then the stage manager came up and gave me a hug. The kings gave me a hug.

The anxiety was gone. Act 2 went off without a hitch.

After the show, much of the cast and friends gathered outside the theater before we moved on to the cast party. A very dear woman come up to me and said are you Jeff? I said that I was, and she began to thank me for my work on the show, telling me how much she loved the direction and the lighting. I thanked her profusely, but to be honest, I was embarrassed. In all my days lighting shows, no one has ever approached me that enthusiastically about my work. A complete stranger at that.

By the time I got the cast party, just like in high school, except all the gays, lesbians, and trans folks were out of the closet, and there was booze. Lots and lots of booze, I felt great.

It felt good.

So good that I told them all that we should go ahead and book the theater for November. Let’s do an election day show, the weekend before.

Let’s see if I can convince them of this.

I do hope it’s not another 9 years.

Face life, with a little guts and a lot of glitter.

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!!!

My show opened tonight.

It went well.

In fact, in over all the shows I’ve designed, I don’t remember ever having brought up a cue and gotten an audible gasp.

It happened tonight.

It’s the equivalent of applause for the set when the curtain rises.

Tonight’s show was a celebration of queer theater.

It involved straight folks, gay folks, lesbian folks, trans folks, and some bi folks.

It was about 15 performers and crew, getting their groove on, making art.

It was not high art; we’ll never be compared to Sondheim.

But it was smart and funny. And the jokes sometimes played on the silly and sometimes were intelligent, and unexpected.

It was theater by committee, as everyone had a voice.

I cleaned up the choreography for the opening musical number. The stage manager staged the curtain call. We all helped the MC, write bits and jokes to tell to fill the space, during transitions and costume changes. The performers gave each other guidance.

Fun fact, except for me and the stage manager, not one of the group has a theater back ground. It’s a group of folks, who decided to put on a show, and didn’t let not knowing how, stop them.

The show changed a great deal in the five days we were in the theater. Scenes were cleaned up. Laugh lines played a multitude of different ways to find the comedy.

More than anything, it was a group of like-minded friends who got together, to celebrate each other, their creativity and their queerness.

The older I get, the more appreciative I am the community we have in Maine, especially the Portland area. We can never take for granted the fact that we live in a state/city/community that allows us to be open. Adam and I never fear, walking across town holding hands. We don’t get nervous at work that someone might see us hugging or getting a quick kiss.

All of our friends are equally open.

The openness is all around us.

Today, I drove through McDonald’s to get a soda. The 16-year-old that handed me my drink, presented as masculine with about 2 weeks growth on his face, but he had 2” acrylic nails painted a bright pink.
I thought to myself you go!!!

This pride post, is about our friends. Our life. Our relationships. Our love for each other and our friends.

The truly best part of the evening, was sitting in the open booth, waving to friends as they entered the theater. Getting hugs at intermission. And being celebrated by these friends at the end of the show.

I truly hope, that my LGBTQ friends, and I have a lot of them, have found communities that embrace you the way ours has. That you are able to feel safe. And loved. And appreciated for the special person that you are.

And for you straight friends, love your LGBTQ neighbors. Support them. Love them. Make them feel safe in your communities.

You’ll get a 100% return on your investment.

So when my spirit starts to sag, I hustle out my highest drag, and put a little more mascara on

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!

The summer of 1984, I worked at Wendy’s in North Park.  It was an awesome job, making $3.35 an hour, that I saved,to pay for college each semester.  Yes, it paid for college, with the bare minimum of loans.  

We were open late, and often got a crazy late crowd.    

One night a car drives thru, I’m working the drive thru.  It pulls up to the window, and I tell them the charge will be 9.76.  The driver pays me cash, and we chat while he waits for his order to be ready.  

The chatting becomes flirting, and then he forwardly asks me what time I’ll be off work.  I tell him around 1:00.  He says, he’ll come back then.    

And he did.  

And we dated for about 6 minutes.  Yes, minutes.

And I use the term dating loosely.  

I would drive to Lexington to meet him at closing time at the Video Village that he worked at on New Circle Road.  Fun fact, turns out my friend Todd Lacy, also worked at that store, with this guy.  I found this out about 8 years later.  

I also saw him long enough for me to meet his drag queen roommate, who was very funny, very gregarious, and very sweet.  I’m pretty sure she was the first drag queen I ever met.  

After about 6 minutes, he told me that he didn’t think it would work out.

I was very hurt.  For about 3 days.  

Then I moved on with my summer. 

Fast forward to the fall of 1984.  

I pledge a fraternity at my very conservative, liberal arts college.  

And why did I pledge a fraternity.

Because living in the dorms, meant always watching your back to see if someone saw you drinking.  Or someone saw you out late.  Or someone saw you doing anything that the Bible deemed sinful.    

I pledged the Phi Kappa Tau fraternity.  

And thus started the pledges life.  

Just before Christmas break, the windows of the house were covered with newspaper.  We brought ou mattresses from our dorms.  

And hell week started.  

What happens in hell week is super top secret, so if I told you, I’d have to kill you.  

One thing we did, was have a scavenger hunt.  Get a menu from here.  Get a ticket stub from there.  

Get the autograph of a bartender at Johnny Rockets, the gay bar in Lexington.  

Fun fact, the big gay bar in Lexington has been in this location for decades.  Its right next door to the police station.  And the city has tried for years to buy the building, but the owner has never budged.  

So there we were, driving all over Lexington collecting our souvenirs.  

And it’s time to go into the bar.  

I volunteered along with one of my pledge brothers, but I don’t remember who.  

We walk in, and approach the bar.  

I go up to the bar and wait for the bartender.

I look to my left and I see my friend’s drag queen roommate.  

She smiles.

I smile, while saying a prayer that she doesn’t acknowledge knowing me.  

She’s not dumb, and plays a long.  She says something sassy, and winks at me.  

We get our autograph and go on with our evening.  

I was very grateful that she did not out me.  

It was my first time in a gay bar.  

But certainly not my last. 

We thy call have disobeyed, into paths of sin have strayed and repentance have delayed, we beseech thee, hear us!!!

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We thy call have disobeyed
Into paths of sin have strayed
And repentance have delayed
We beseech thee, hear us!

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Pride Edition!

In the late 80’s, I moved back to Kentucky to go to grad school at the University of Kentucky.

A couple of years into this, I met a guy named ????. I don’t remember. We’ll call him Mark.

I don’t remember how I met him. I do know that we got went out a few times.

At one point, he asked if I’d like to join him for church on Sunday morning.

I said sure.

I still believed in god back then, and thought what the hell.

He picks me up on Sunday morning, and we drive toward his church.

On the way, he mentions that he is a Jehovah Witness.

Okay.

I have never been to their church, but I’ve known people in my past who worshiped there.

How bad could it be?

We arrive.

We are out of the car, and he says, Oh.

One more thing. They know I’m gay. I’ve been excommunicated. And no one will speak to us while we are there.

What the fucking fuck.

I go in. He is smiled at. He is acknowledged with a nod. He points out his parents and family.

But for the 90 minutes we were there, not one person spoke to us.

I was not introduced to anyone.

I met no one.

It was the weirdest church service I’d ever attended.

The service starts and the minister says a few things, and then they begin to read from the Watchtower magazine.

They read a passage, then someone with a microphone runs up the aisle to ask someone to interpret the reading.

Like this.

Jesus said to love your neighbor.

Then someone got the mic and said, I believe that means Jesus said we should love our neighbor.

It was that literal.

It perhaps was the longest church service I’ve ever been to.

Because no one spoke to me. I was on parade. Everyone knew I was gay. And no one liked it.

Finally, it is over.

Mark, says goodbye to his parents and siblings.

None of them acknowledge him.

We get back in the car. And head back to Lexington.

That was the last time I saw him.

Until about 10 years later, when I ran into him in NYC coming out of a play. He too had moved to NYC and was living his best life.

We hugged.

Caught up for 4 minutes.

Then went our separate ways.

The moral of this story, is that if you have to do things that are uncomfortable, do it alone.

Don’t bring a victim to suffer with you.

Curtain up! Light the lights. You got nothing to hit but the heights.

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I’d like to say speak to the manager!!!

Pride Edition!

I graduated from grad school in 2006, with an MFA in lighting from the University of San Diego, California.  

I spent 6 weeks, that summer in Maine.  

During that time 4 of my friends, decided to do a drag king show in their garage.  They expected 20 people to show.  That night the yard was packed closer to 50/60 people. 

It was a party and the show was a blast.  It was performed on stock 4×8 platforms and we rented four PAR 64’s to light them.  I ran sound on a corner of the stage and the music would skip if the danced too aggressively. 

This was the beginning of something big.  

They continued to do shows. Getting bigger, better, and more popular as they did so.  

Fast forward 8 years, and they rent a 300 hundred seat theater and produce a full scale production.  They hired designers, stage managers, and a crew.  The show was a huge success sold out for the run and they considered it a failure because they were 400 dollars short when it was all said and done. 

I assured them I had many friends who would love to run a theater company that failed like that.  

In 2015, they produced another show in the same space.  We’re equally successful.  

I had been a part of all but one show.  

I acted as designer of course.  But I also directed and  choreographed.  We were best the theater in the wee hours of the morning as I taught them the choreography to thriller.  

That was their last show. 

To be a self producing company is a full time job.  And all of them had full time careers, partners, life that was not focused on theater.  

They’ve joked and contemplated doing another show ever since.  At the end of last summer they decided it was time. They started writing. They started planning. They started rehearsing. 

They approached me before the approached the theater space about a rental.  They made it clear that they’d forget the whole thing if I said no. I of course said yes. 

Meanwhile, the last show I designed was for them 9 years ago.  Except for appreciating the work of good designers at the shows we see, I haven’t thought much about it. 

I got to the theater early evening, and we focused lights and I roughed in cues for half the show. 

I called everyone up the stage to commemorate the recording of my first cue in 9 years.  

I also have to point out, that this is the first show, in my whole life, where I didn’t have a Diet Coke on the floor next to me. Today it was a polar sparkling water. 

Tomorrow night, I’ll finish cueing the show.  

We’ll rehearse Thursday, with a first and final dress on Thursday night. 

We open Friday. 

We close Saturday. 

The show has been sold out for weeks.  

It has fun to be back in the theater.  It was fun focusing.  It was fun writing cues.  It was fun realizing that programming an ETC board is ingrained in my head like knowing my name.  

I’ll check back in this week about how it’s going.  

Meanwhile my friends documented my work today. 

The sex is in the heel, even if you break it. The sex is in the hell, honey you can’t fake it.

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The sex is in the heel even if you break it
The sex is in the heel, honey you can’t fake it

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Edition!

I spent 1987 and 1988 waiting tables at Bennigan’s.  It was located at The Lenox Mall, in Atlanta, back when the mall was only one floor, and Rich’s and Macy’s were the anchor stores.  Banana Republic still focused on cargo shorts.  Abercrombie and Fitch had not started selling sex yet.  Structure was a favorite store of mine.  

I’ve written about my time there, and how it was the beginning of my coming out.  

Everyone I worked with knew I was gay.  

And as with every restaurant, the cast of characters was ever changing.

The beginning of my first summer there, a very cute, very masculine young man was hired.  He was a very straight, very sheltered, straight fraternity guy.  (This becomes important later).  

He starts work, and I trained him one of his shifts.  Believe it or not, I was a trainer, in every restaurant I ever worked for.  I always loved it, because I felt like I was a great server, and could share my talent with others.  

I train him, and he becomes a real server. 

As he gets to know me, and the rest of the staff, he can’t believe all the gay people.

And he can’t believe that I’m gay, as I don’t look gay.  I’m assuming he meant that I didn’t walk the runway in front of the bar as Jason did.  And I didn’t wear makeup like Kelly did.  And I didn’t gesture with a limp wrist like Billy did.  

I however, did not hide it.  I sang showtunes in the kitchen.  I learned to be caddy along with the best of them.  And if you took a second look, the façade always gave way to the truth.  

Imagine my surprise, when one Saturday night, I’m waiting tables, and this young man comes in for dinner, with three of his fraternity brothers.  And ask to sit in my section.  

I wait on them, have fun teasing and joking around with them.  They pay the bill, tip me well and are on their way.  

A couple of days later, I work with this guy and he tells me why he wanted to sit in my section.  

He wanted his friends to meet a real life out of the closet gay guy, who didn’t look gay.  To him I was a novelty.  He’d never met someone who looked and acted straight who was gay.  

I took the comments with a grain of salt, understanding what he was trying to say.

However, I did say to him.

Greg, how many men are in your fraternity?  

He replied, 70.

I said, well think about this.  It is estimated that 10% of the population is gay.  So that means that 7 of your fraternity brothers are gay.  And I can assure you, it’s not the ones you think.  And I can assure you that a couple of them act straighter than me.   Think of that tonight as you are showering before bed.  

And I turned on my heels, and sashayed away, walking the runway in front of the bar.   

If I loved you, time and again, I would try to say, all I’d want you to know.

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay pride edition!

I am teaching high school in Cincinnati.

Everyone knows I’m gay.

At the beginning of my third year of teaching, I’m sitting in my office and the phone rings.

I pick it up and there is a woman crying on the other end of the phone.

Through her tears, I make out that she is upset because her son has just told her, he is gay.

Backstory.

The son is not my student. His brother is. I know the mom very well. Her son, in my class, is a great student.

I get her calmed down and she explains what happened.

That morning, before he left for school, there is a discussion, and he tells her he is gay.

She is a very devout Christian, and this message has upset her.

The first thing I say, is how did you respond. Did you say anything that you can’t take back. Did you kick him out of the house.

She had not. He knew she was upset, but he also knew that she loved him.

He left, and she called me.

She wanted to know what to do.

I assured her that if she wasn’t cruel, didn’t kick him out, and didn’t tell him she didn’t love him the rest could be fixed.

We talked for about 30 minutes.

I told her he would be fine.

I told her she would be fine.

I explained that this was probably as hard for him as it was for her.

She was also worried about his health and I assured her that as long as she made sure he was educated he’d be fine there.

I told her about PLAG. The organization for the parents of LGBTQ kids. I explained how to find them. How to reach out. I encouraged her, to go to the group and ask for advice/help/support.

At the end of the call, I assured her that all she had to do was love him. The rest would be figured out.

I have not spoken to the mother in a while. But my student and I are connected on Facebook. Last I knew, his brother was married and had two kids.

Sounds like he’s doing okay.

I hope his mother is as well.

Why are there so many songs about rainbows? And what’s on the other side?

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!

In the mid 1990’s, I taught high school for three years.

I was teaching lighting, at a performing arts high school, in Cincinnati.

Cincinnati at the time was very conservative. VERY CONSERVATIVE.

I was told before moving there, to keep my sexuality to myself. I did so by buying my one and only rainbow car sticker, to put on the back of my Ford Escort Station Wagon, that my friends called the family car.

I didn’t really get any pushback as had been suggested.

I had a boyfriend soon after moving there, who came to my shows.

I didn’t flaunt it, as they say, but I certainly didn’t hide it.

One day, I’m teaching in the morning, and a student, who was known for pushing the boundaries, raised their hand, and asked what the (hehe) meaning (hehe) of the sticker (hehe) on my car was for (hehe).

She was completely convinced she was going to make me out myself, publically.

Instead, I stretched the truth a bit and said, “Well, it’s a rainbow sticker, that was created to celebrate diversity. Its foundation, was the rainbow coalition, that has been supported by the Reverend Jessie Jackson. Its purpose is to let everyone know, that I think diversity is a good thing. I think, we should include everyone equally in everything we do, and I just want everyone to know that.

There was a pause, she said okay.

And I went back to teaching.

It never came up again.

And I went on to sing in the Cincinnati Men’s Choir. I also designed the lighting for a number of their shows, and my students assisted in hanging and running the shows.

IF YOU WERE GAY, THAT’D BE OKAY.

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

June is pride month.

I thought I’d write some posts about being gay.

Or at least about my being gay.

I’ve known I was gay for as long as I can remember.

Well not gay. I didn’t have a word for how I felt.

I just knew that I was fascinated by boys/men.

Battle of the Network Stars.

The Hardy Boys.

Emergency.

Chips.

Saturday Night Fever.

The Sears catalogue.

The underwear section at Kmart.

And I a crush on a whole host of boys in my grade or older.

I’d list some of their names, but think it’s better if I don’t.

As I said, I knew I liked boys.

I knew it was wrong.

And I knew not to tell anyone this deep dark secret.

I, however, did find a word for how I felt on September 29, 1976.

The TV show Alice had started the week before. It was fun.

Kiss my grits!!!

We tuned in the following week and the episode was about a former professional football player that Alice is interested in who turns out to be gay. She suggests he take her son fishing, then changes her mind when she learns he’s gay.

Drama and discovery occur, she realizes she’s wrong, and eventually changes her mind.

Tommy goes fishing.

In that episode, I learned the word homosexual, which I looked up in the dictionary as soon as the show was over.

Homosexual: sexually or romantically attracted to people of one’s own sex.

Sexually or romantically attracted to people of one’s own sex.

One’s own sex.

That was me.

Gay must mean the same thing.

There was a word for me.

The word for how I’d been feeling.

I was a homosexual.

I was gay.

It would be a while before I did anything with this information.

But it was nice to know I was not alone. There were others like me.

Turns out that week was filled with gay characters although I didn’t really remember them.

I did see the Barney Miller episode mentioned in this video:

This video tells you about that 1976 tv season.

However.

I’ve always remembered this episode of Alice.

I didn’t learn it was the only the 2nd episode till about 10 years ago.

But remember it I do.

For almost 50 years.