Fans
How Kate Clinton Made Me Gay
Calyx of the Heavens (heavenscalyx) wrote,
Long ago, before the wheel was invented (or, well, possibly somewhat after; I was a life sciences major! what did I know?), I was in college. I picked the wrong college to try first, and wandered around it like a lost soul, and stood outside the college GALA meeting (this was also before bisexuals and transfolk were invented, apparently) in a long black cloak at night under a tree, trying to make my hide in shadows roll and failing repeatedly, for half an hour. I watched the meeting of perfectly normal gay people through the walls of the large glass meeting room in which the introductory meeting was being held — whose bright idea was that? — and felt that piquant terror that many geeks feel at the idea of mingling with normal people.
Fortunately, I failed my hide in shadows roll at just the right moment and was found by a wandering pack of science fiction geeks who dragged me off to join THEIR club. None of them, alas, were willing to be gay at me, but I happily shoved the idea of gayness to the back of my head.
Then I went to a different college. I was too busy to try their GLSU meetings, but I eventually found a slightly geeky gay man who worked with me to come out to. I came out to him on one of our long, boring summer afternoons of watching over our brooding ranks of Apple II+ computers (before the invention of the hard drive). He told me the GLSU was a seething mass of politics, so maybe I didn’t want to try them. Besides, I told myself, I was bisexual (this was after I invented bisexuality), not a lesbian. Perhaps there was still hope.
The next school year, I lived in a dorm that was next to a set of train tracks. After getting used to the sound of the train running by my back door every hour, I started wandering the town a bit more. One store I walked past on an almost daily basis was Wonderland Records.
I was certain it was a Head Shop.
I wasn’t really sure what, precisely, a Head Shop was, but I was certain that it wasn’t the sort of place a Nice Catholic Girl like myself should be. (This was before I invented paganism.)
It took me something like six months before I dared cross that Heady threshold.
It wasn’t, actually, a head shop or anything of the sort. It was a record store. It sold records. You know, those vinyl disc things that play on phonographs. It also sold cassette tapes, but I didn’t have a cassette player, so I didn’t even bother looking at those. There was a bargain bin of 8-tracks in the corner.
I looked around the store very carefully. I found a tiny section in the racks near the windows marked “Women’s”. I thought, “Women’s music?” and flipped through it.
I don’t remember seeing anything in there except two records by Kate Clinton. One was called Thanks for the Mammaries and the other, Making Light. (This led to later confusion and disappointment when I discovered the blog of the same name.)
There was something deeply subversive and intensely scary about women’s comedy, so I fled.
It took me something like six months before I chose Making Light because it had a less intimidating (and revealing) title. I carried it to the cash register with an exaggeratedly casual air, paid the uncaring clerk for it with cash, and ran for the hills. When I got to my closet-like dorm room, I played it.
I laughed and howled and played it again.
The line that stays in my head from that album: when she’s talking about removing stuck tampons, she notes, “Fortunately, we have friends to help us.”
Over the subsequent years of waffling and confusion, that album was one of those things I returned to like an orbiting comet. It made me wonder what I could be sometime, maybe, possibly. And every return felt a little more like home. I mean dykes! Making jokes about being dykes! How cool was that? And she wasn’t mean. Well, not to anyone who didn’t deserve it. So much humor about women is based on meanness.
I thought, wouldn’t it be nice to be a woman and funny and not mean about other women? It sounds like dykes have so much fun!
(Clearly, Dykes To Watch Out For had not yet been invented. Or, well, it had. I remember seeing the title on the table of the women’s book co-op I went to twice, and wanting to flip through it, but I ran away.)
Meanwhile, I kept getting closer and closer to realizing that being a dyke, being part of dykedom, was what I wanted.
It took me a long time to come around to coming out.
Fortunately, I had friends to help me.
—
Several years ago, while in Provincetown, I bought another Kate Clinton album, this time on CD, in Womencrafts (10% Dyke Discount!). I took it home and forgot it. A month or so ago, I found it again, unwrapped it, and listened to it on the way to work. I laughed and howled and played it again, this time for Akycha.
When I think about lesbians, the first thing I think of is Kate Clinton’s voice. I didn’t realize this until I listened to this album.
Someday, I’d like to see her perform live. And maybe if I’m brave, I can shake her hand and thank her for helping to make me gay.
Celebrate Kate's New DVD
here!Comedy Presents
Beloved political humorist, Kate Clinton, cuts lose and runs with the burning issues of the day – same and same old sex marriage, pop and pope culture, good and bad Bush fatigue – in this one-funny woman, standup performance. You’ll laugh til you think!
English, Not Rated. Runtime: 90 minutes. Year Produced: 2006.
Available January 16, 2007 — pre-order now in KateMart!
DVD, $19.99
It's Come To This! Soundtrack
As we travel across the United States and Canada you have been dancing in the aisles to the It’s Come To This! Anniversary Tour soundtrack. Since so many of you have asked about the songs that Kate has chosen for her tour, we thought it was best to pass along the tracks for this music for your soul.
Thank You – Sly and The Family Stone
Groove Is In The Heart – Dee Lite
100% Pure Love – Crystal Waters
Do You Wanna Funk – Sylvester
Hot In Here – Nelly
Got To Give It Up – Marvin Gaye
In Da Club/Beyonce – 50 Cent
Push It ( Remix) – Salt-n-Pepa
Get Up – James Brown
U Make Me Feel – Sylvester
Baby Got Back- Sir Mixalot
It’s Your Thang – EU & Salt-N-Pepa
Shoop – Salt-N-Pepa
Da’ Butt – E.U.
and while we are at it—
Talkin A Blue Streak Soundtrack
Am I Blue – Bette Midler
Busy Being Blue – k.d.lang
Almost Blue- Diana Krall
Blue Bayou – Linda Ronstadt
Hang On Little Tomato – Pink Martini
Without Your Love I Am So Blue – Lyndon
Am I Too Blue – Tres Chicas
Astral Projection Blues – Jimmie Vaughn
Devil and The Deep Blue Sea – Frank Sinatra
Blues Never Die – Koko Taylor
Blue ( Import) – Mick Jagger
Moody Blue – Elvis
If I Were A Man – Andrea Menard
Damn Right, I’ve Got The Blues – Buddy Guy
Don’t Start Me To Talking – Etta James
Got My Mojo Working – Etta James
Middle Of The Road – Pretenders
More frequent flyer miles/on the road
Debra Shapiro, MD writes:
We just returned from KC’s fabulous Santa Rosa, Calif. show. This was part of the Sonoma County’s Pride weekend and the Luther Burbank Center now owned by Wells Fargo Bank was packed to the rafters with eager dykes of all ages, shapes, colors and even genders!
Kate met with us for 2 hours before her performance in her hotel room for lunch. It was too hot outside for the delicate northerner. We had brought lunch after checking with her publicist, the extremely lovely Michele, and, in case you are wondering, no beets, ever! And no carbs, minimal fat. Really, she eats almost nothing. I think she runs of caffeine, broiled chicken, some lettuce leaves and, of course, Nicorette gum.
First thing out of her mouth was an irritated comment regarding the bad Bush pushing his nasty anti-gay marriage amendment this week. And we were off… We talked about everything from her tour, performing comedy, losing one’s place in a routine and finding it again, her other gigs such as writing for the Advocate magazine, and being featured on In the Life to World Pride in Jerusalem, which we found rather ironic (should it be held in Spain, don’t you think?), Crucifix wielding homophobic thugs in Moscow, the European Parliament (my favorite topic) and radical rabid, foaming at the mouth secularism and Freedom of Speech (for which we are still grateful). We were exchanging book referrals. Kate had told me to read End of Faith, by Sam Harris which I, in turn, have been promoting at every opportunity, and we told her about the new Quincy Jones autobiography. She told us about meeting “Q” at one of her performances. He had said to her backstage, simply, “You’re funny.” Kate told us of her happiness in her dear Provincetown and her 19 years of Love with the strong, smart and beautiful Urvashi.
We stayed with Kate until we saw the first yawn and then we quickly left her to herself for a couple of hours before the show.
Believe it or not, there were tailgate parties happening at the Luther Burbank Center. Large groups of women hanging out in the parking lot eating and laughing. I was reminded of the Grateful Dead tours of my past. Was I no longer a Dead Head, but a Kate’s Kid?
We met up with our friends from the Olivia Greek Cruise who were kind enough to get us tickets. There were 1300 dykes in the hall, and a few gay men, too. The opening act, an LA comedian named Andre Kelley warmed up the crowd and he was actually doing quite well until, near the end, he mistook a woman in the audience for a cute dude and it was not a good thing. His last minute scrambling to recover was painful and we just couldn’t wait for our beloved KC to enter.
This was my 7th show of the tour and we got in some trouble in Victoria, because Kate thought that we laughed too early for some of her jokes. I feel, in our defense, that we were not laughing before the next joke, we were merely STILL laughing from the previous joke. We were safely tucked up in the balcony, but we needn’t have worried as she had added lots of new material to her show.
There was some summer humor, regarding vapor locked packages in bathing suits; some urinary humor..all the president’s leaks; and more political humor, although I hate the image of Ann Coulter and Kate…but, as she says: “Anything to shut her up!” Ain’t it the truth. Sometimes listening to Kate makes me feel like Proust taking a bite out of the Madeleine. I become flooded with all the memories of her other performances through the years. I feel the power of her humor, the importance of what she is saying with her humor. The greater message of how to disarm and even disassemble our oppressor. Laughing and waving as the rapture of change carries them away. The metaphor, the reality, our collective power to save ourselves from being ravaged by religious bigots.
Kate didn’t have time for an encore, but she got a great long standing ovation from the very enthusiastic and appreciative audience.
Pen Pals
When I was in my early twenties, I fell for a bumper sticker about “The Lifesavers.” Next thing I knew I was raising my hand and swearing to support and defend the Constitution of this great country of ours. (Did I mention that the freedom of speech and association parts are my favorite in the text?) Next, next-thing I knew, I was drowning in a sea of testosterone. Over five years later, after being at sea for months and returning to a home port that didn’t feel anything like home, a lone friend met me at the pier, drove me to her apartment and set the mood as she put a funny looking blue album on the record player. Ah, relief. Suddenly, your “Making Waves” became a beacon of hope and your free speech became a lifesaver.
While on liberty one weekend, I attended my first “Sisterfire” in the DC area, where you were the MC. I waited nervously after the show to talk to you. As my heart pounded loud enough to ring in my ears, I rehearsed what I would say to you, in hopes of getting your attention and making a point. At the time, “armed services” personnel manuals actually divided homosexuality by categories, and mere association with a known homosexual automatically made you a Cater gory III or IV homosexual. Face to face with you at last, I handed you my program and asked you to write, “See you at your courts martial.” You bit and asked. I explained, and you wrote, “See you in court!”
You went on making waves and I went back to riding them. One day I finally got up the nerve to write to you – not so much a fan latter as a Thank You letter. I also wrote about life at sea and closed with, “If you send this letter back to me with red correction marks on spelling and grammar, then it’s over between us.” Imagine my surprise (and delight) when you scribbled back, “No red marks here. We could be pen-pals.” It was the start of a beautiful pal-ship!
Writing to you was occasionally bruising, literally, as I stayed up late at night typing letters to you in the ship’s office while in rough seas. My chair was bungied to the deck and a hard roll to starboard sent me flying away from the type writer, while the accompanying roll to port and bungee recoil would send me flying into the desk. But it was worth the pain because while I was writing to you I always felt less alone. Of course, then I’d have to run below and lock up the letters in my locker until I could safely mail them off to you. Years before it was trendy (and effortless) to slap a yellow ribbon magnet on a car, your wrote back to me, “Thank you for serving our country.”
Over five years of sea duty earned me the right to wear a cutterman’s pin and in recognition of your years of “making waves,” I gave you one of mine. With plenty of salt spray high-lites in my hair, rusty hull, battered bottom, and torn and tattered sails, I drifted into retirement. You, however, remain our silvered anniversaried Fumorizor Bunny – still going and going…..and going strong! I proudly salute you!
– Chief
A Lifetime Fan
I keep thinking about LOGO……why wouldn’t they snatch Kate Clinton up? How about a monthly talk show? One thing I loved about Kate on the Greek cruise is her ability to let all of us crazy people talk on & on and then just at the right time Kate hits you with the most amazingly brilliant & funny line. She would make a great TV Host.
Deb Mosk
How I Earned KC Frequent Flyer Miles by Debra Shaprio, MD
Deb Mosk and Debra Shapiro, MD with Kate. Debra writes:
I have memories of seeing KC in the early 80’s in Santa Cruz, California. Of the entire routine, I have to admit, I remember mostly the “menstrual standards”: laughing hilariously as she mimed wrapping her sanitary napkins in rolls and rolls of toilet paper to avoid her brothers’ discovering them. I had no brothers in the house growing up, but the jokes seemed timeless. I probably still had the vestigial napkin belt in an underwear drawer at home. I remembered the 5th grade films..I guess I empathized with the idea of being uncomfortable with your body and its peculiar functions. I wasn’t very politicized yet, but as a budding college baby dyke I appreciated the early line: “she wouldn’t say lesbian even if her mouth was full of one.” That left an impression and an image that I could sink my teeth into, if you will. I knew she was a “recovering Catholic” and that was cool…it was the disco 80’s and I thought religion was dead anyway. I wasn’t concerned about the Pope one way or another–I didn’t fear religion as I do now — I just enjoyed the beautiful out comedienne with the sly smile and soft voice who was telling me that it was okay to be gay.