Argh O’Mateys!
Am just back from a lovely Olivia Cruise celebrating their 35th Anniversary. We sailed out of Ft. Lauderdale, where all the older northern gays who can afford it, have migrated. We sailed and out toward the Turks, Tortola and I jumped ship in St. Maarten. Sad to say it was a bit rainy and cloudy the days I was on board. I believe it was a low-pressure disturbance from all the hot air coming out of Florida. B-bye Rudy!
k.d. lang did a sail away concert and kicked off her world tour of her new CD Watershed. She absolutely kicked the guts out of a Jane Siberry/Leonard Cohen medley that warmed the hearts of everyone especially the Canadians. Margaret Cho also did a hysterical set that even bothered me in some sections. That’s a good show.
After they jumped ship, we set sail and though I’m usually a good seafarer, I had to take a couple Bonine, my new drug of choice, to get through my show. It did enhance my performance, but not my memory. The front row, coupla co-dependent gals from Seattle, were very helpful in keeping me on some kind of track.
The 35th Anniversary cruise was like old lesbo-week reunion. Holly Near brought her posse – Adie Torf, musician-extraordinaire; Amy Horowitz, founder of Roadwork and Sisterfire; Melissa Howden, Holly’s former road manager and documentary filmmaker; Torie Osborne, women’s activist and organizer, fresh from being the deputy mayor in LA. Meg Christian was in the house. Our dinners were raucous – esp. after they discovered to their horror, that I was for Hillary Clinton.
My pal Kate Moira Ryan, who wrote the BeeBo Brinker Chronicles based on the Ann Bannon lesbian pulp novels of the 1950s, had a little rest before returning to NYC and rehearsals for the show that opens off Broadway on March 5. It is a must see. I’ll tell you more about it later.
Thankfully, I missed the State of the Union address. We’re at war, in recession, and the ship of state is taking on water. And that’s the good news.
As always it was great to get a chance to talk to so many women from around the country and the world. And to dance wildly with a bunch of gals, pals old and new. I’m the luckiest lesbian. Who could not like walking around hearing, “We love you, Kate”? I’ve asked Kate Ryan, who lives in Brooklyn, if she would come up and tail me as I go about my day, doing errands, getting stuff for the Super Bowl/Super Tuesday party. She said she’d stand on the corner of 73rd and Broadway and say, “We love you Kate!” I promised I’d plug her show.
