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Houston Voice, No. 1171, April 4, 2003
File 014
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Houston Voice, No. 1171, April 4, 2003 - File 014. 2003-04-04. University of Houston Libraries. University of Houston Digital Library. Web. November 28, 2020. https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/montrose/item/17058/show/17042.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

(2003-04-04). Houston Voice, No. 1171, April 4, 2003 - File 014. Montrose Voice. University of Houston Libraries. Retrieved from https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/montrose/item/17058/show/17042

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

Houston Voice, No. 1171, April 4, 2003 - File 014, 2003-04-04, Montrose Voice, University of Houston Libraries, accessed November 28, 2020, https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/montrose/item/17058/show/17042.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

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Title Houston Voice, No. 1171, April 4, 2003
Contributor
  • Weaver, Penny
Publisher Window Media
Date April 4, 2003
Language English
Subject
  • LGBTQ community
  • LGBTQ people
  • Gay liberation movement
Place
  • Houston, Texas
Genre
  • newspapers
Type
  • Text
Identifier OCLC: 31485329
Collection
  • University of Houston Libraries Special Collections
  • LGBT Research Collection
  • Montrose Voice
Rights In Copyright
Note This item was digitized from materials loaned by the Gulf Coast Archive and Museum (GCAM).
Item Description
Title File 014
Transcript HOUSTON VOICE www.houston voice.com APRIL 4, 2003 13 • point ELLEN FELDMAN If we are going to wear chains, let them be harnesses of the leather and metal variety, not psychic boundaries from our true selves. Sunny thoughts at a Black Party AM SITTING ON THE BACK OF THE padded banquet at the Roseland Ballroom, scene of the annual Black Party in New York. I am propped up against the wall. My husband is sitting between my legs rubbing my feet while I rub his forehead. We are both pretty much blissed-out, and we are watching the "bees" — our word for the rhythmic swarm of humanity that is trooping before us. My husband moved in with me after I took him to his first Black Party (did I find the right man for me or what?), and we have declared it to be our anniversary I'm considering visiting my friend Kenny ("Ooooh, I just love straight people!") down in the ladies room, which is filled with many gents and only a few ladies tonight. But my thoughts have caught a wave, so to speak, and my mind is surfing through an idea. I'm meditating on being happy with one's self and the teachings of Quentin Crisp. Yes, I have a little chemical wax on my board, but the thoughts are my own. Suddenly, sitting next to us are two matching mustachioed muscle men trying to get into two matching metal harnesses. The harnesses are very complicated. My mind is still hanging 10, but we try to help. This is a not-uncommon good- Samaritan action at the Black Party I used to have a little joke with myself: There are two rules to happiness. One, never do anything with your life that would make a good opera; and two, never put food in your gym bag. Both are recipes for disaster. I'm beginning to believe that Rule No. 3 should be to keep your costuming simple. ("Sweetie, I don't think that goes over your head.") MR. CRISP WOULD BE VERY PROUD OF me. His philosophy, which I embrace, states: Find out who and what exactly you are and be it completely. He always thought it was a good thing to gef famous for being what you are. He would approve of my writing a fag hag column. "Do you like my gardenias?" I ask of the men on the dance floor. "They're my signature." Nearly everyone stops and takes a whiff. Mr. Crisp is one of my heroes and mentors. I say "is" rather than "was" even though the marvelous gentleman has passed away, because I keep him with me like many other ghosts. I believe that his philosophy transcends lifestyle choice, and is a universal. He tells us that the limits we know to be our own are comfortable, not imprisoning. He spoke of the chains we forged for ourselves as being light; as opposed to the heavy chains society hangs on us. Meanwhile, our friends are getting nowhere with the chains forged by leatherman. "No! I'm positive that abso- Pykeg ToWaft.ll Out for by^liso_8ecfeW lutely no part of this thing goes around your knee. Now let me undo it so you can stand up." IT TAKES A HUGE AMOUNT OF discipline to stay in your "forgery." The person you have created holds your personality and represents yourself to the world. As every drag queen knows, there is no affectation without effort. You have to be completely committed to the idea of being yourself and throw all your resources toward that goal. "These are really gorgeous, guys, they must have cost a fortune." It can be painful when others don't understand your quest. "Hey, watch out for that spike there." It can mean sacrifice; there will be no easy way out. "You know, Love, you're not going to be able to go the bathroom without taking this all off." But in the end, it is how you bring your true self to the people who can appreciate you. "Oh man, did that guy seriously cruise you or what!" No matter how difficult it is to reinvent yourself to suit your own design, the truth is, there is just no joy without it. No one can ever be happy living someone else's life. "Oh, no thank you for offering, Love, but it's just a waste of good drugs on me." Our new, beautifully armored friends have kissed us goodbye and danced off into the swarm. I'm beaming at them with auntie-like pride. They wanted to present themselves as something special to the people they care about, and they have succeeded. I helped, which is, after all, a representation of my persona. And now, I think it's time my man and I start dancing again. wk Ellen Feldman lives in New York City w and can be reached at ellenfeidman@radiangroupinc.com. ww^OykesToVaechOy/for-coin
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