CHERISH


The dancers for M.’s upcoming tour are staying around the corner and I see them every morning. I’m not even going to tell you who M. is but you’ve probably guessed correctly already. Three things - M., dancers and tour - and we’re all wired to envision the same face. Even if it took you two guesses, that’s still pretty good shit. We have all been Brain Washed and I think it’s where The Voices come from. Forget you read that.

They are all young and gorgeous and cool and hip. Not, I’d think, the wisest choice for M. to surround herself with on stage but Not My Problem. Also in the NMP Department is they’re all extremely friendly and polite. Whenever one introduces me, they always introduce Polly as well. Polly sits staring at them like some Alien Queen sucking out their Life Force with her eyes. It’s very dramatic and kinda creepy which fortunately makes my Lonely Old Queen vibe less suspect.

I do not ask directly about M., preferring (as the saying goes) not to “shit where I eat”. Exempt from this rule is 1) if I happen to overhear something by mistake due to my Super Hearing Power and 2) if they bring M. up unsolicited. Apparently they signed some kind of “Confidentiality Agreement” or something. I’m not an attorney so, you know, sure. I would certainly hate being the center of some Huge International Celebrity Exposé. (Which, of course, would be so cool.)

Part of my Brain Washing also has some bizarre urge to keep things regarding M. secret. I’ve absorbed some myth involving M.’s ongoing Privacy War against Them, the hungry media pulling a Polly on M.’s Life Force. My Brain Washing has kept me peripherally interested in M.’s Tour despite no attempt to go. I have, after all, seen her perform twice. Yup. Une, deux. No merde.

So I found myself telling a Dancer about those concerts and the events of that period in NYC. Me: puffing a pipe (a tobacco pipe). Both our faces gleam from the campfire. “It all started way back in 1981... before CDs, before the Internet, before Cell Phones!” Something like that. My recollections were (naturally) amusing but his face registered Awe and Fascination which just made me feel Old. I am apparently a Walking Time Capsule, a 3-D History of Queer New York in the 80’s.

Which leads to an iced cappuccino in L.A. to Polly and me and one of M.’s dancers who tells me his favorite book, like mine, is Geek Love. Go figure.

2:39:05 PM    sro home /