Honestly, the event was a bit disappointing for me. I’ve watched Cher’s last tour, Believe, on videotape more times than I’ve watched Charlie Brown’s Christmas special. The chameleonic icon’s current tour is little more than a slightly revamped version of the Believe tour, including the songs, the set, the choreography, and the costumes. (Not that my alter ego Anita wouldn’t gladly attend a torturous weeklong Religious Right Pat Robertson revival just to get her hands on one of those shiny Bob Mackie frocks.) But overall, I didn’t get too excited-at least not during Cher’s performance.

In a wonderful double dose of diva, Cyndi Lauper opened for everyone’s favorite gypsy, tramp, and thief. For those of you who think Cyndi’s career spiraled down the toilet after she peaked with the gay anthem “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” Cyndi has not stopped recording (and acting and writing) since the 1980s. In fact, much of her later music is deeply political and soul-searching, and maybe that’s why you don’t hear it on the airwaves. Cyndi continues to enjoy widespread popularity on the West Coast, at least among gay club-goers. Perhaps most importantly, especially since her sister came out to her as a lesbian, Cyndi has ridden on more gay pride parade floats and spoken at more gay pride functions and written more essays for gay magazines than you can shake a bottle of magenta hair dye at.

In Cyndi’s spirited, hour-plus performance before Cher took the stage, she once again proved herself loyal to her largely gay fan base. After frolicking through a few of her newer songs and some sure-to-please crowd favorites like “She-Bop,” “Money Changes Everything,” “All Through the Night,” and “Time After Time,” she silenced the crowd with a banshee scream that only Cyndi’s amazing throat could produce. Thousands of fans from all walks of life-preppy gay men, drag queens, leather daddies, diesel dykes, lipstick lesbians, and heterosexuals from teenagers to seniors-shut their mouths and watched in awe as an attendant ascended the stage and gingerly wrapped Cyndi in a huge, bright rainbow flag.

More than half the crowd screamed and applauded in surprised delight.

“For those of you who don’t know what this is,” Cyndi announced, “this is a rainbow flag. It is the symbol of pride of the gay community. At least, when I met the man who designed it, that’s what he told me. Each color represents something different, but I’m too old now to remember them.” Almost everyone chuckled at this rousing rocker with platinum blond, spiked hair, who is also now a forty-something mother. “June is Gay Pride month!” Cyndi reminded and informed the crowd. She spoke a few poignant words about Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG), the need for heterosexual allies in the gay world, the strength and courage of the LGBT community, and her shining hope for humanity. Then, still wrapped in the colors of the rainbow, she dedicated her sentimental hit “True Colors” to everyone who has been touched by the needless suffering of gay people in this world.

Just as my friend and I were peaking on our combination high of gay pride and cheap draft beer, a gruff female voice from the row beneath us killed our buzz and sent my stomach through the floor.

“This is disgusting!” the woman declared to her sedate husband, who, apparently, over the years, has grown callous to his wife’s frequent maniacal diatribes. “I can’t believe I have to sit through this filth.”

Throughout Cyndi’s beautiful rendition of the song, this old blue-hair rattled off the supposed sins of gays and was even bold enough to predict that all gay people would burn in hell-and, worse, that we should.

I wish to spare you, the reader, the gory details of the ensuing events. Suffice it to say that my friend, who has a heart of gold but spews venom at homophobes like a rattlesnake on a very bad day, adroitly convinced this woman to leave the concert in a matter of minutes. I did not necessarily support my friend’s actions, but as a tough-as-nails drag queen friend later commented, “If the woman’s stupid enough to come to a Cher and Cyndi Lauper concert and say things like that, she deserved it.” Right on, sister of the sequins!

In no way did I let the ignorance and hate of this bitter old bitch ruin my Cher/Cyndi concert experience, but I have considered the situation quite a bit since then. There are a number of things I just cannot understand. Why would you go to a concert and try to spoil someone else’s good time? Are homophobes still ignorant enough to believe that gay people aren’t within earshot of any hateful comments they make? How could someone not be moved by such an emotional appeal for peace and harmony as Cyndi gave? Will we ever move completely beyond the point of ridiculous personal and social prejudices? How did that mean old woman get her hair in the perfect shape of a motorcycle helmet?

Years from now, I will remember Cyndi’s words of encouragement and hope, her performance of “True Colors” draped in the colors that are dear to my heart, and the music of Cyndi and Cher that will doubtlessly touch me throughout my life. I will not remember that old woman’s appalling words, and even if I do, I will laugh at the way the world used to be. Until then, I’ll show my own beautiful colors every day, every moment, and whenever I can, I’ll teach people that this world is big enough to Cher and share alike.

Eric’s diva addiction continues to rage out of control. If you know of any psychotropic prescriptions he can take, or even the name of a good therapist or twelve-step program, please e-mail him at eric.a.morrison@verizon.net before he squanders his last dime on concert tickets, CDs, and miniature Bob Mackie gowns for his Cher doll.