Dear Andrew -

Let's talk. Homo å Homo.

Your name comes up on a lot of blogs I read. No surprise, you've managed to position yourself as a Big Visible Queer and since our team isn't exactly crawling with Recognizably Out faces, people grab what they can. Notice I didn't say Out Celebrities. I wouldn't presume to include you with the Riff-Raff you're a little bitter, oops, perturbed over. You've managed to make a name for yourself though, in one of the most unlikely ways too. You've taken on the Tiaras of both Mo and so-called Conservative. Not my thing, but hey, the Paul Lynde schtick has already been done so I understand.

And honey, that's all it sounds like - schtick. You're like Joan Rivers, so enmeshed in this "Personality" you've created that you've burned your bridges and any other side of you would be a betrayal to your Fans. The fans you obviously believe you have and feel compelled to spoon feed, even when it makes you sound kinda, well, whiney.

For example, this Sheryl Crow hissy you threw in Salon this week. "Sheryl Crow, Idiocy of the Week"? Please. Girl, what planet do you live on? I'm not even that politically savvy but I could rattle off about a million other Bigger, More Obvious Idiocies in my sleep. Yeah, I know, not quite the Glamazon Aura you're going for, but still.

"One word: sequins". Uh, yeah, sequins. Do sequins somehow negate the message to you? What about your self-professed steroid muscle body? Yeah, that. I know that gig Andy, I'm there. I get them from my doctor for HIV as well and if I had half the mind, I could be as big as a house. I have, actually, already Gone There. When I lived in NYC, I was 270 pounds of beef. Yup, one of the Big Boys. I would even go so far as to bet money we've probably "met" a few of the same guys at some point. I'd have done you. Maybe we weren't knocking boots with them at the same time (you were supposedly a little chunky back then from what I've read) but it's a small world after all. Weensy.

Eventually, though, I got off that carousel. I, uh, what's it called? Oh yeah, I grew up. I realized how big your arms are and who you fucked and what you wear are really kind of secondary in the Big Picture. Which leads us back to Sheryl Crow.

Sheryl Crow is a pretty big star. Not like Cher Big but pretty well-known. Enough so that I bet "her people" could have called just about any designer and gotten whatever they wanted for her to wear at those Awards. Instead, she chose to use the attention and opportunity she had in the Public Eye to make a statement about her beliefs. Given the circumstances, she did it in an appropriate manner too. If she'd worn dirt and Birkenstocks, it might've fit in more with an "Anti-War" stereotype but would've also been kinda weird, doncha think?

I can imagine what you'd have worn Andy. I mean, you know, if you'd been invited. I bet that tee shirt would've been painted on, showing off your Buff Bod. Maybe do an extra Cycle the weeks before, do a little Disco Pump that afternoon? You'd have been the bee's knees. What message would you have shared with America?

Sheryl felt some kind of responsiblity and she acted on it. Barbra apparently feels the same and your assumption that she "doesn't know the difference between Iraq and Iran" is just lame. She doesn't have to. As a matter of fact, she doesn't have to do anything she wants other than laze around her Glamansion with James for the rest of her life. But she does. She makes an effort in her own way to initiate a change in America, using her position and celebrity to do something about her ideas.

How many of your Conservative chums do that? Let's see, there's uh... wait a sec, I know I can think of one... oh yeah, Arnold! Setting aside his steller body of artistic work and his limitless future as an Action Star to enter politics. Right.

Stranger things have happened. Queers who haven't really done much other than hone their Pundit Schtick get paid to dish Sheryl Crow. Other Queers like me get to write about the result. With or without sequins - my choice. What a fucking wild and crazy world this is.

A Few Degrees Away - Hugh
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