Pride, Prejudice & Pee Wee

If being gay was a choice, I’d choose gay every time.  Not because I think it’s better to be gay than straight (Note: Although sometimes….).  Rather, it’s because making any other choice would mean that I wouldn’t be myself.

Now, how’s that for pride month???

Oh please, no applause.

OK I’ll accept a cheer though

Every person I know and almost everyone I’ve ever met in the LGBTQ+ community would answer the same way.  Because once you have zero compunction about being your authentic self and actually live that way, the toughest part of that particular journey is over.

As for the handful of perverse exceptions on the subject, well, as practically everyone on earth aside from a MAGA politician will publicly admit, there is a streak of the depraved within EVERY community.

Meaning there are lots of ways to be gay.  Just as there are lots of ways to be pretty much anything. 

Tis true

This week I watched the fantastic HBO documentary, Pee Wee As Himself.  It tells the story of Paul Reubens, the late actor who invented and played Pee Wee Herman all those years and who, among other things, officially “comes out’ as gay on the program. 

Not that we imagined he was straight.  Or anything else.  Pee Wee was camp and camp done by a man scores very high on the gay meter.  Like 9 out of 10.  And yes, I know that Dame Edna was played by the late Barry Humphries, a straight man.  He’s the 1 out of 10. 

Which in public gay speak is 1 out of every 10,000.

OK but the glasses are gay, right?

In any event, the fact that Paul Reubens was gay is nowhere near the most interesting aspect of his life, or his story.  What‘s much more revelatory is that this little gay kid was a natural performance artist fascinated by the circus (Note: He grew up near Ringling Bros. HQ in Sarasota, FL), children’s television and mid-century kitsch.  And that he was a Cal Arts grad who had a boyfriend in his twenties but was so obsessed with rising to the top of show business that after their breakup he poured everything into his career rather than to ever lose himself or his ambitions ever again in the homo-normative narrative of gay domestic bliss.

Reubens, in drag, at Cal Arts

Toiling in the usual rounds of anonymous auditions, improv comedy, bit parts and more, he one day finally hit upon a strange character that managed to suffuse himself, and everything he loved, in the form of an oddball man-boy who could entertain all the oddball kids, their older siblings AND their parents.  But in an honest, hyper-colorful, strange and wittily sarcastic style that was both purely him and purely for the “him” who would’ve liked to have (or been) such a person when he was younger.

It’s a story that is not much different from that of many creative people in the entertainment industry, only with overwhelming, outsized mainstream success.

Early days

Sure there were personal lapses and dramas like the arrest at the porn theatre for supposedly exposing himself or the subsequent cancellation of his Saturday morning kids (ahem) syndicated TV series, Pee Wee’s Playhouse — which my husband and I used to watch almost every Saturday morning early in our courtship – waiting for the inevitable gay double entendres that would always come (Note:”You know what they say about big feet…”).

Cowboy Curtis Boots

But, like being gay, those were just moments in a life of creativity that was clearly formed by being a bit odd and a bit of an outsider, albeit with an obsession to stay that way and become an INSIDER through the imaginative expression of EXACTLY who you are.

The character of Pee Wee and the guy who created him was as gay as anything could be because it was NEVER about his gender or sexuality, or the gender/sexuality of those millions who were attracted to him. It was the fact that he was using who he really was to attract everybody together in one big playhouse. And that’s the most appealing, most successful and most enduring attraction of all. #OneBigTent.

An icon

Of course, this a fact that is impossible to explain to self-professed “real” men like our current Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, or as he is known as around our house, Brylcreem Boy.

Yes, it’s a dated reference, but so is he.  Type casting for a school bully out of the 1950s, down to the drunken rages, mistreatment of women and financial failures.

Words escape me

After the April debacle where he set up group chats and leaked plans for US military raids by using the unsecured internet line, Signal Chat, B.B’.s new plan is to remove the names off of any Navy ships that he claims don’t further his “warrior” agenda for the troops.  And rename them with something more appropriate to his “mission.”  At the top of the list this pride month (Note: And likely to reassign him to the name Petty Pete in our household), is the USNS Harvey Milk, christened in honor of the slain gay rights leader and former San Francisco Supervisor who was gunned down in his office at City Hall one morning late in 1978 by a guy who didn’t like his politics.

Hey! Look at this big gay boat!

Ironically, though not to Petty Pete, aka Brylcreem Boy, is that Mr. Milk was the quintessential warrior.  After four years in the Navy, where he served on a submarine rescue ship during the Korean War, he was forced to resign when his superiors found out he was gay.  Never comfortable with hiding who he was, he then went on to become the first openly gay person elected to public office in California, and the following year put his career on the line to defeat the then popular-in-the-polls Briggs Initiative, which would have made it unconstitutional for any gay person to teach in a California school, as well as ended the careers of any of those who already did so.

Mr. Milk prevailed and thanks to him we not only have gay teachers but millions of out gay people living proudly all over the world.  He imagined the latter dream in countless public speeches but, much like many other civil rights leaders, didn’t survive nearly long enough to see that become reality. Nor did he stay alive long enough (Note: he was forty-eight when he was murdered) to see a U.S. president decide to honor him, a former navy lieutenant, for his courage by putting his name on one of its ships.

Thank you, Mr. Milk.

Unsurprisingly, Mr. Milk is just one on a longer list of names that P.P. or B.B. (Note: Take your choice), and one assumes the bosses above him in the current White House, are seeking to erase from history in our government by claiming they were only put there in the first place because of some undeserved bow to diversity, equity and inclusion.  Additional Navy ships scheduled to be stripped of their names are the:

USNS Harriet Tubman

USNS Thurgood Marshall

USNS Medgar Evers

USNS Cesar Chavez

USNS Dolores Huerta

USNS Ruth Bader Ginsburg

USNS Lucy Stone

The gays, the Blacks, the Browns, the Jews and the Women (not necessarily in that order).

Groundbreaking

Well, those names may be temporarily erased from a Navy battleship but they will never be erased from American history.   Not by a secretary of defense who thinks branding his body with a series of white Christian nationalist tattoos is enough to make him a contemporary warrior.

Most Americans see him as a callow idiot, one of many teeny tiny man-boys in our collective pasts. 

Far more petty, and far less notable than Pee-Wee Herman himself.

Pee-Wee’s Playhouse Theme

You’re Not the Boss of Me

Ah, but sometimes we are the bosses of you. 

There is not, nor has there ever been, complete liberty, even in democratic countries like the United States. 

Laws based on common sense, which are then exacted by the majority rule of our democratically elected representatives, govern us.  We might not agree with all of them but that’s the deal that we make to keep the society functioning. 

You might not always like each decision, but who gets 100% of what they want all the time except spoiled five-year olds?

… and we know how that worked out for Veruca

This has worked generally, though imperfectly, for almost 250 years in the U.S.  But for it to continue working there needs to be a baseline of accepted reality and logic based on science and empirical evidence.

When we disagree on what is real we’re Alice stuck in Wonderland.  We’re on a bad LSD trip with the Jefferson Airplane as White Rabbit plays in the background. (Note:  Ask your parents, or grandparents (!). Or better yet here)

I feel attacked.

And as the song and the book warn, WE are the only ones who can save us.  And the way we do it is through – guess what – information, learning, reasoning and logic.

When we can’t decide on what is logical, and conclude nothing is a fact and everything is subject to debate, trouble ensues.   

You can begin to wonder whether what you’re reading right now is a blog from an overly opinionated fellow or truly the rantings of a literal Chair; the cousin of that piece of furniture you sit on in your kitchen that has suddenly come to life and figured out a way to type words into your inboxes via your social media platform of choice.

Well, it COULD HAPPEN!

Readers… maybe we should talk

Yes, for some this IS a gray area and reality is that dubious. 

Imagine literally witnessing a savage crowd of people bloodily invade your place of business with battering rams, knives and military grade weapons one day and yet somehow decry days later, and in all seriousness, that this was a non-threatening group of peaceful protesters.

Up CAN be down and Down certainly, possibly and probably/actually IS Up.

k byeeee

Though we can take it a bit further.

You live in a magic kingdom where life is good, or at least tolerable.  But one day a swarm of invisible locusts come in and begin poisoning, killing and maiming your fellow citizens and, as a result, systematically destroy everything good, or at least tolerable, in life as you knew it.

But one day the kingdom’s sorcerers huddle and discover…all you have to do to save yourself from these deadly invisible locusts, ALL you have to do, is endure one teeny, tiny needle prick from the spindle of a spinning wheel available to EVERYONE in order to save yourself and EVERYONE in the kingdom.

And vanquish the invisible locusts 4EVER.

Bonus beauty sleep!

Yet — guess what?

At least 40% of your kingdom REFUSES to get pricked.  Not only that, they’d rather watch themselves and their children get maimed and/or DIE rather than shed a droplet of blood from the prick, or endure the subsequent scab that might form and then drop off a week later at the prick site.

Their reasons boil down to this.  You can’t tell them ANYTHING because one of the tenets of this kingdom is they are free to do precisely what they want, when they want. 

Even though this has never been true.

Awww you thought you were free, that’s cute

In fact, we all know this is not true, since in one of the small kingdom villages an edict was just this past week written that proclaims NO female of child-bearing age shall have a choice in deciding how, when or if they choose to become a mother once they’ve engaged in a sexual escapade.

It makes no difference if a male relative forced the escapade and themselves on that young female while they were in high school or junior high school.  And it is especially immaterial if the escapade was simply unplanned or happened in a way the female had not intended it.

Despite all the safe and effective options offered by the sorcerers who created the locust-neutering potion for them not to be a mother, NO VILLAGE FEMALE of ANY AGE gets to make THAT decision for themselves. Ever again!

That, and a lot more, is now dictated by their mostly MALE ELDERS.

So this…

Those mostly male elders so know best and are so bent on having their way that they have even provided a foolproof means of enforcement. 

Any villager suspicious of any young women bent on disobeying this new rule can report her and her enablers and in return will now receive a small pocketful of gold coins for turning them in.  That is if they can offer minimal proof of her or their intentions in the Town Square before a panel full of random (ahem) mostly male. elders.

And this? great.

With locusts running rampant in the village, gold is scarce and the majority of the villagers are preoccupied with surviving.  

To give them some credit, even illogical chumps the likes of those mostly male elders know how to seize an opportunity when they see it and make it appear golden.

Or as someone once wrote in another magic-thinking kingdom that was once governed by reality and logic for almost 250 years:

Even a broken clock can be right twice a day.

Unfortunately, that kingdom hasn’t existed as such for decades.  It devoured itself whole despite having access to every possible foodstuff in the universe.  That is because it preferred the taste of its fellow citizens’ blood and marrow to that of a simple hamburger or pizza slice at its once deliciously mundane and safe local food court.

Jefferson Airplane – “White Rabbit” (with clips from Alice in Wonderland)