Is It A Rock Band???

Last Wednesday I did something pretty atypical for me. I stopped by the local gay bar on the way home around 6PM and ordered a drink. It was Happy Hour after all, and I figured that there would be a solid group of people taking advantage of two for one drinks, and yet... it was me, the owner, the bartender, and a regular who seemed more staff than patron. And yet, I've always been one to dive into social situations head first. So after about fifteen minutes of solitary sitting, watching them gab amongst themselves, I got a notification for discounted tickets to the upcoming revival of Angels in America, a production that had begun in London and is headed to New York, and which I'm frankly, very excited to see. So I thought to myself, "here's an easy icebreaker, I'll bring up the new revival and we'll have a lively theatrical discussion." But the response? Quizzical looks, and a tilted head from the bartender as he asked "Is that a band?" The bartender asked.

The owner, who is old enough, didn't know it either. And to be fair, while I feel like the play is ever present, it has been 25 years since it premiered on Broadway.  The patron though? The one who had been playing on his laptop? He had heard of it, and I felt a little vindicated. And yet, I'm still a little surprised, as this is considered the greatest American play in the past quarter of a century. But then, maybe it didn't matter.  maybe people today, even gay people, aren't as culturally aware as I would think.  I mean, I didn't think to toss out A Streetcar Named Desire and see what reaction that would have gotten. I would like to think that more people would have heard of that, but in truth, I don't know that they would have. And shouldn't they? 

I first saw the play around 1998, ironically, with a girl I had been seeing for a while. And it was a strange experience to see. It was a glimpse at a distasteful world. A world I didn't quite grasp, in spite of the fact that in my reality, I was reaching toward it with one hand and pushing it away with another. Holding hands with a man in the park as we chat about Come Back Little Sheba? Lounging around in full drag? Having random sex with a leather daddy? Embracing the full force of my feminine side in the daylight, owning every ounce of me?  I couldn't see it. Didn't want to. Would not be going there. Ever. And of all the characters, if I related to any, I related to Harper, the Mormon mother in denial who slowly but surely inched her way into a new and open way of being. Strange that I didn't see myself in Joe Pitt. And yet, I think I saw him as too far above me. Better looking than me, more manly than me, more chiseled, ramrod straight and respectable. All things I had never really succeeded at being. But, like Joe, I saw myself as above gay culture. They were the victims, thy were the weak ones. Weren't they? They luxuriated in femininity and vulnerability. Didn't they?

And I had already upon seeing this play experienced the giddy, floor shaking experience of a really great kiss from a man, but I did not consider myself gay, because I had not completely given into camp, into ceaseless emoting, into gooey public intimacy with a man as if we were romantic. 

And yet, now? I have done a version of every single one of those things that I cringed at before. And those that I haven't? Those are the experiences I long for. A long term relationship with one that I know intimately from day to day? I want that. That thing that when I first saw this play, that I saw as men "playing house"? I yearn for it. Ad I'm grateful. I know that what I am and who I am and what I've done isn't "gay" for everyone. But it is for me, and I am grateful. Grateful to be a part of a community who has been through the experiences painted in this piece. Grateful to have had some of those experiences myself, grateful to be watching the play from what feels like the inside out rather than looking from the outside in, like a petrie dish. Because there's so little redemption to be found in judgement, and so much to be had when one can look at himself and ask "Why am I judging? What is the fear here about?" And then step through that fear. 

Joe's resolution at the end of the play is ambiguous to say the least. But, as someone who's journey has been a version of his, even though he "pretended" so much better than I ever could have, fI see hope for him. We only see him at the beginning of his journey, and the years have a way of changing a person if you are able to strip away the false and look at the reality of yourself and who and how you are in the world. And so, yes. People, gay and straight need to know this play. They need to look back on our history, our post stonewall history, which was every bit as much a struggle for those who experienced it, as the closeted years of those before. We need to be able to see a time, which is close to the one we currently live in than it was just two years ago, if only to know that we can, and with strength and with our eyes open, we will.

What Am I Doing Here?

"What am I doing here?" that's the question I've been asking myself more and more often lately. And it makes sense. It's a good question? Surely, whether we are wondering why we are still at a particular job, in a particular relationship, in a particular, city, state, or on earth in general, it is a good question to ask. It's an even better question to have a ready answer for. At this time, for many of the situations I find myself in, no answer is particularly forthcoming. 

This city? Well, I know why I came here. And this city has been very good to me in many ways. I wouldn't have dated as much as I have here in probably any other city. I wouldn't have had so much success with this character, wouldn't have written this show, or have the opportunity to be performing it so often. I wouldn't have access to all this culture, and these opportunities. So the question now, is, am I still doing what I came out here to do? 

Well, with Cathy, I am. Although this is only my fifth upcoming appearance as Cathy in a little over a year, I am growing an audience, she is getting more exposure, and more things are happening for her than could have been thought of in Austin, Texas. And yet, since I started working on her, I haven't really gone out for auditions, at least no where near as much as I used to, which in turn, was no where near as much as I should have been. So that's one thing that needs to happen. More auditions. And as for Cathy, it's time to start pulling things together and doing writing for the second show I've been pondering.

My writing? I've been journalling. Writing for myself. Which is important. It's important to process all that is happening in a completely safe and private place where it doesn't matter what is written, because no one will read the minor gripes and complaint you toss out about them, receiving them as major blow. Better than that, they have no concern that someone else might read them and judge them by your opinions. And yet, public writing? I have things to say. But I'm not currently writing for public consumption. I DID do one thing to clear away obstacles. I had to talk to my family and ask them not to read this blog. Because who can really be honest about what's happening in life knowing that their mother is eagerly reading it all, even if it's only for the purpose of cheering you on?  There are something's that, with the much scrutiny and that much whitewashing would never get out there. So... that's one. More blog posting, work on a fiction piece.

Romance? That one needs a rest I think. It needs me not to worry about it. To breathe, give it some room, and quit working so hard. Because working for relationships, especially in the beginning, scares guys off. Not that I'm not going to continue swiping and texting and meeting people in person, but I'm going to relax my investment. Keep an open mind and think before I act. I do think one good adjustment I made was the decision not to be too physical too quickly. It makes a difference. 

There are definitely more things to take into consideration, daily life goals, but those are the big ones, the reasons I'm here, that if I am going to remain here need to be focused on. Otherwise, I'll find myself in a cubicle, just like I did in LA, not expressing myself in any fashion, doing exactly what I could in Austin, Texas, but spending more money and emotional energy to do it. I do not want that to happen. So... time to get to work.

Extremely Late Obligatory Update About the SAG Awards

I said I would update everyone in regards to my progress getting through the SAG nominated films and television shows, and though it is now weeks after the winners accepted their awards, I am dutifully here to up-date, as I am trying to be better at follow-through (the key to any success).

I made it through a couple more shows, and through several films, carefully voted according to my heart, and... no one I really cared about, excepting Claire Foy, won anything.

My vote for Timothee Chalamet went to Gary Oldman, which, come on. Prestigious film, historical, and a character that everybody can look back on to do a comparative analysis and say "yep, that's pretty close." Chalamet''s work felt so much deeper, so daring, and complex.

Jessica Lange in Feud? Nope.

Holly Hunter in The Big Sick? Nope, again.

The cast of Mudbound for best ensemble? Again... uh-uh.

I DID vote for the cast of Wonder Woman for best stunt ensemble, Stirling K Brown, Claire Foy, and for Alexander Skarsgard, all of who took statues. And I am happy for them, and their deserving work. But this is not a very good record, if I were attempting to predict the winners.

Obligation Over. Good job, Joe.