The Senate today did not receive the required 2/3 votes needed to pass a constitutional amendment defining marriage as between a man and a woman. Nor did they even get over 50%, which was achieved last time the vote went to the table. While all this is heartening many of the reasons behind the no votes are the usual American wimpy. Senator John McCain (R-Ariz), who voted no, gave his reason as: “Most Americans are not yet convinced that their elected representatives or the judiciary are likely to expand decisively the definition of marriage to include same-sex couples.” I take this to mean something akin to “If I don’t have to take a stand either way myself, I won’t.” Nevertheless, this is a moderate Republican actually making a vote, if not for gay voters, at least not against us. So here’s a limp wristed, lazy “Bravo” to all you Senators. Perhaps if we were as tough in our policy decisions as we are in our war decisions we could be headed for real change.
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Just because many people use a derogatory term does not make it less derogatory. I don’t buy this super gay excuse. I heard a little about it yesterday through some queer forums. I saw a short piece on KGW news last night (which I currently can’t find on their website). My own website here finally has some information on it this morning. But it was Saturday night, 3 days ago, that 3 gay men were attacked on Stark Street. I realize much goes on without making the news at all, but I haven’t heard of many violent anti-gay crimes prevailing in this town. And while I’m certainly aware of discrimination, I have never felt unsafe. Perhaps I should. I’m sure a Saturday night downtown was busy. Did anyone come help them, or call for help? Oddly, none of these news stories have told me. More helpful yet has been the description of the attackers: white males of average height and build in their 20s. Should we just start rounding ’em up? Sure, they had a bartender from The Escape, all ages gay nightclub, on TV last night. But I’m really not seeing the outrage, the uproar, let alone the action that I would expect to see after an incident like this. Is marriage all we really care about my fellow Portland queers? Thanks to Mary for sending me to the link to these amazingly great photos from last Saturday’s infamous Team Dresch show. Below are a couple of my favs but the whole gallery is definitely worth checking out. Thanks Conform, whoever you are. Just look at our enraptured little faces below. It’s as if Donna is playing just for us… Regular Booty goers will know by now that the popular weekly queer pirate-core extravaganza is moving from the home it has loved so well for 2 years on N Lombard. What they may not know, is that there has been a little drama surrounding the change in venue. It’s come to me in bits and pieces so I’ll be careful to separate the fact from the rumor mill. So let me start with own own, gossipy, befuddled path to the truth. A couple weeks ago I learned that Porky’s Pub was changing owners. Now change can be sad but as it billed itself as queerly bought and intentioned I was content. It wasn’t long, however, that disgruntled queerbies wanted to tell it like it really was. One boy told me that the new owner Pat Lanagan (who also owns adult oriented stores aptly named Fat Cobra) was more intent on creating a gay male space than a radical (gender)queer club. In a town known for its lesbian and queer populations above and beyond its gay ones, yet still having several male only spaces, this sounded unfair. And it could only serve to antagonize and infuriate Porky’s Nopo neighborhood patrons. (Ah but then again, sometimes I underestimate my gay brethren. They seem to be able to support so many more establishments. Don’t ask me how.) And then, all of a sudden, Booty, Porky’s flagship event night, raised anchor. Turns out, Booty was already planning on moving due to the considerable space limitations at Porky’s. It’s just sort of unfortunate how it all went down. Right amidst the change a man pulled a gun on Puppet, one of Booty’s main organizers, and some other booty-goers, and it became apparent that some form of security was necessary. Through Lanagan’s GM Puppet communicated the necessity of security and when none were hired for the next week, hired her own the following week, requesting to split the cost with Lanagan. It seems at this point, neither was particularly excited to continue their arranged marriage. So Booty began moving venues until it could settle into its new home at Acme (SE 8th and Main). Forgetting the abruptness, and the saddening rumors of gay male elitism, this move could be a positive one. Many friends I have taken to the, now famous, night, have hampered their own good times by complaining that the space was too small, too smoky or too far away. Now I mostly enjoyed the press of dancing bodies (though it was sometimes frustrating to try to finagle your pitcher of beer through the sweaty throng to your non-existent seat) but Acme’s spacious booths and back patio filled with benches does sound particularly inviting on a warm summer night. And yet while ACME seems a smart move, good food, more space, closer in, some of these pluses may also serve to take away some of Booty’s greatest joys. While the space is much larger on the whole, the dance floor is much the same, and certainly not the focal point it was at Porky’s. The option of foodstuffs that have made mainstream mention is enticing but I loved getting rid of my usual microbrew pretense and being able to buy a whole pitcher with 4 little bills. But most intensely felt might be the migration south. The location, while central, takes a main event out of a neighborhood where many queer folks have situated themselves. We all have trucked down to Holocene for their pricier drinks and bigger space when they host queer nights but Booty was our own, in our own neighborhood. The Whatever Lounge and the Jockey Club has been lost to us for years. A brief stint of queer frolicking at Alberta Street’s The Know, was a welcome addition to N/NE Portland’s queer landscape but it just didn’t have Booty’s staying power. Now we’re again left without a corner bar. And that loss will be felt. Booty is on tonight at the magnificently spacious Wonder Ballroom (128 NE Russell). Set sail at party time and for information on where the next nights will be held visit www.bootypdx.com. My recommendation: Get back together, you’ve still got it. How can songs written and performed more than 10 years ago still sound contemporary and exciting? I admit to a certain amount of bias in my love for this band but this is a question I can answer. At least 3 things make TD still one of the greatest bands ever: Donna’s flawless guitar handling, Jody’s non-stop energy (even as a Mom now!) and Kaia’s sweetly sincere vocals. They make a great band and even after an 8 year hiatus the synergy is perfection. I had hoped that a few new songs might mean a better indication that they intended to stick it out (I might have heard one, I’m not sure, I was too excited), but at least a September Midwestern show means they’ll at least be playing through the summer. The show started out quality but mellow as I sipped my beer with the other grown-ups and bobbed my head only enough not to spill while watching Swan Island. They played it well with a drum beat that really pushed through you and a vocalist as fashionably interesting as her strong voice. But I knew after TD’s first song that I couldn’t be stuck in a gated drinking community that cared anything about small outlooks, annoyances, or concerns beyond what was happening on stage. And I’m glad I sweated it out with the all ages crew. While even they might have seemed reticent at first it didn’t take terribly long for the crowd to gain momentum and I laughed and howled as I was jostled in time to the music. The purple blotchy bruise I sustained on my right cheekbone was certainly worth being so near and so much a part of the Team Dresch fan base. In fact, I treasure it as a memory and a battle scar. I can only hope to be blessed with more music war wounds in the near future. Oh and by the way…I was much too absorbed to actually obtain any pictures. I probably would have broken my camera anyway. If anyone has any please let me know and I’ll get ’em up here.
For those of you who may not have been as maniacally obsessed in the mid-90s as most young ladies were Willamette Week provides a great overview of the bands sordid history, much like an musical abbreviated version of E! True Hollywood Story. Even better, check out either of their two albums, which can be found on Donnas record label Chainsaw. Even more exciting may be the new availability of the famed Free to Fight compilation. This anthem for female power and safety is now freely downloadable in mp3 format for the audio and pdf for the accompanying booklet. A fan-based version (including my own teenaged self) can be found in my last excited Team Dresch post. And for updated news and info in the ongoing TD drama keep aware of the bands Myspace page. Check back later this weekend for all the joy, heartbreak and gossip that tomorrows show will produce. And if any of you have pictures or stories of your own, I would be ridiculously excited to hear them. Ok, time for another small shout out. I just wanted to give a sincere congratulations to the 30 students who received (quite large) college scholarships from the Point Foundation. (The only time it can pay to be gay huh?) On lucky lass is making her way to this very city to attend Reed. One more queer for us. Whoohoo! A dubious ally to be sure, but apparently, Howard Stern claims he will not get married until gays and lesbians can. I do appreciate it when those in a position to take this kind of stand (wealthy and famous especially) stick up for us even when it could adversely affect their (or rather, normal folks) finances, health care standing etc., I don’t think Stern has ever warmed my heart before. And yet, a small word of thanks. But it is an interesting phenomenon that I am starting to see elsewhere. The brash Momma did it on Showtime’s Queer as Folk, and even my housemates mentioned the concept. Perhaps it can become a movement… Ah, the season when we bring the most interesting, scandalous, and dare-I-say well-written books with us to the beach. Yes, it may take us all summer to finish them, but a gay books reading list would certainly help us in the search for the perfect summer novel. This recent British article lays out the 10 ten queerly written novels and that inspired me to compile my own list. So here’s a rundown of my personal favs and a little about each. 1) Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenides 2) Stone Butch Blues by Les Feinberg 3) Zami: A new Spelling of my Name by Audre Lorde 6) Baby Bebop by Franceska Lia Block 10) Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins Lastly just a few honorable mentions. Although I have not read them James Baldwin’s stories of being a black gay man in early century Harlem are supposed to be superb and Jeanette Winterson does amazing short stories. Her full length, Oranges are not the Only Fruit, made the Brits list, and probably would have made mine too, if I had read it. Nancy Clue and the Hardly Boys the spoof on the girl detective series nearly made me wet my pants at times. Anne Bannon and other lesbi-pulp novels I could tell you that I had to read several 1950s lesbian pulp novels for a seminar term paper and that would be true. But secretly, I enjoyed them too. Someone always has to die or marry in the end of these dime store novels it seems but the women who wrote them 50 years ago did their best. And the image of the woman-loving-woman, even if she was scorned and unlucky, was at least getting in the public conscious. |
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This Saturday night will see the much anticipated Team Dresch show at the Wonder Ballroom (128 NE Russell) with starting lineup Swan Island and Libber. Though we received a small moment of release two years ago at Homo-a-gogo devoted fans have been deprived of our Dresch drug for nearly 8 years now. And though it really cant be billed as more than a reunion show at the moment, there is hope alive that the 4 (mostly) original members may find their groove again. Either way, Saturdays show is sure to be a frenzied mess of dancing emotions. 
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I leave you with a few guilty pleasures in case you have no shame: