LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
High CAMP |
by Brent Mundt |
Billy: The Kids
Gay or straight, I defy you to find anyone who could watch the televised Tony Awards from Broadway and not get a lump in their throat to see the three adorable Billys accept the Tony for their collective roles in Billy Elliott. If you've lived under a rock and somehow missed the five-star movie or the ten-Tony musical, here's the gist: Billy is from a working class British family and his widowed coal-mining father is none-too-pleased that he's taken to ballet dancing. You needn't know Maggie Thatcher's politics or Britain in the 80s to know this could take place in any town that might frown upon "differentness." But Billy not only has a letter from his deceased mother telling him to be himself, he also has a father who eventually comes around, a dance teacher who loves and supports him, and an entire town full of big burly coal miners that eventually sends him off to the Royal Ballet with their very best wishes. It's a two hanky affair and the reason there are three Billys on Broadway is that the dancing is so intense and grueling, they need to rotate their performances. So these three Billys each get reinforcement and a happy ending in real time, week in and week out. My mind wanders to men my age that weren't so fortunate to get all that love in real time during the scary and exhilarating pubescent period. Men of my generationwho hit puberty circa 1967had to hide and seek shelter within, lest they face rejection and stigma. Aretha Franklin's iconic R-E-S-P-E-C-T hit the charts that year. But respect is hardly what was waiting for a boy who threw like a girl and threw up every time the bell rang for gym class. A car cost $2,800, a house $14,000 and we were all as queer as three dollar bills. So, meet three Billy's I know and how they coped forty years ago. Billy 1 was every teachers petso much so that he invited all five of his sixth grade teachers home for a luncheon. He told his mother that they'd be arriving in three weeks, whereupon he presented three courses, beginning with a "Raggedy Ann Salad." This work of art consisted of a peach for the face, raisins for the eyes and shredded celery, immersed in a bath of ice water (to curl it) and delicately place it as her hair. His brothers were outside losing teeth playing ice hockey and he's preparing an ice water bath for dunking shredded celery. We didn't use the term "Gaydar" back thenbut mothers know. It was as plain as the delicately placed raisin nose on Raggedy Ann's face! Billy 2 went to see Oklahoma! on Broadway with his parents. He'd been preparing for his trip to New York for weeks. About half way through the first act, his mother leaned over and said, "Honey, you can't sing so loudly!" At twelve, he knew every word of every song, the biography of Agnes deMille, and Al Hirschfeld's tribute in the Sunday New York Times. Gay as a goose. Billy 3 was taken to the LSU Tiger football game like every Cajun boy his age. It was a right of passage, even for a pent-up pansy. All of his older cousins had done it, and so he sat in the stadium with his father, fixated on the end zone where the dance team, the Golden Girls of Tiger Land would do their routines. At halftime, the dance troupe marches out to the 50 yard line and they all, in unison, drop their golden velvet capesunderneath were skin-tight sequin body suits. Now, every straight male cousin so far had gotten all tingly and titillated by this very same sight, but all Billy 3's thinking is how the fourth from the end really should touch up her roots andMOTHER OF GODhow in the world will they get grass stains out of 75 velvet capes tossed willy nilly onto the football field!? The horror! Mostly because they had to protect their sons, our mothers didn't say "be yourself"and no town full of miners sent their minors off with a big hurrah. We had to get that on our own. Later, much later, in life we've all rescued ourselves. We found each other, we came out to our families, and we live proudly, and without apology. It took us a while, but queer and quiet became queer and proud. These lyrics are sung by the coal miners in Broadway's Billy Elliott as they are poised to strike.All out together All out as one All out for victory 'Til we have won All out together All out as one All out for victory All out 'Till we have won Sung by proud men who stand shoulder to shoulder against all odds, it's ironic to hear these words on the fortieth anniversary of the Stonewall Riots. We spoke truth to really ugly power back then, and I'm delighted that the Billys (and the Billies) of the world have it better. There's still enormous work ahead, but among my wonderful circle of gay and straight friends, with a loving family behind me and a supportive work environment, the only thing in my closet are my clothes. The Queen of Soul's 1967 anthem resonates with this queen today. Because after all, this time searching for R-E-S-P-E-C-T, I found out what it means to me Brent Mundt makes a living in Washington and a life in Rehoboth Beach. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 19, No. 07 June 19, 2009 |