Monday, March 15, 2010

Hot Button Issues Can Be Sooooo Confusing

Mike Gatto is running in April's election for the State Assembly in California. Well, yesterday, one of his peeps called our house and my husband answered...

CALLER: Would you consider voting for Mike Gatto?

HUSBAND: Before I can answer that, I need to know where he stands on gay marriage.

CALLER: (Pause.) Well, um, I'm pretty sure he's for it.

HUSBAND: (Not totally convinced.) Where can I see that in writing?

CALLER: (Searching frenetically.) Well... I'm sure it's here somewhere. Oh, yeah, here it is. Yes, he definitely is in favor of gay marriage. (Beat. Beat.) No, wait, that's abortion.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Residual Check


Residual checks always perk me up. They're sort of a mystical concept. You never know when they'll appear nor how how much they'll be. And I, at least, have no earthly clue what sort of algebraic gymnastics the Screen Actors Guild goes through to determine what ends up in our bank account.

Today, when I found a residual check nestled amongst the bills, it was like Christmas in March.

Then, once again, I had that nagging thought that I should be more diligent in understanding the byzantine world of residual pay, but to be honest, I got a turkey to cook (guests tonight), beds to make and dogs to de-worm. Who has the time?

Luckily, it doesn't have to be a lot of money to make me happy. Just enough for a jumbo-sized bottle of Ketel One and I'm grinning like Carol Channing off her meds. Well today was a red letter day. Seventeen payments were added together in a single check. I can practically taste that martini.


Foreign Royalty Statements are always a hoot because you get to see which of our shows are watched overseas. ER, Ally McBeal and Monk make sense. They are/were all blue chip shows. But Switzerland really follows Yes, Dear? And Strong Medicine is big in Spain? I'm pretty sure the only episodes I saw of either of those clunkers were the ones featuring my husband.

But thoughts of Michael as Detective Paul Armstrong on Strong Medicine subside as I imagine sparkling bottles of top shelf vodka lining my liquor cabinet/ironing board closet.

Then I take a closer look...


Fifteen dollars and sixty-two cents! Seventeen showings and all we get is fifteen dollars and sixty-two cents!! (The episode of Monk paid the most, while Strong Medicine paid out a penny an episode. Told you it was a crappy show.) So much for Ketel One. I'll be lucky if I can buy a bag of Funions and a six pack of Bud.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Three Heaping Spoonfuls of Homophobia

Homophobia moment number one deals with Black History Month in the Los Angeles Unified School District. At Wadsworth Elementary the students put on a parade carrying banners depicting prominent African Americans: Barack Obama, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Jr., you get my drift. Along with these fine folk were also images of OJ Simpson, Dennis Rodman and RuPaul, which has caused quite a media kerfluffle, and in my opinion an unnecessary kerfluffle. Some parents were offended, then the school board got involved, and finally the NAACP got wind of it and the entire incident has been so blown out of proportion that it lead to the suspension and possible future firing of three teachers.

Even our not-so-faultless mayor, Antonio Villaraigosa, chimed in, "These teachers undermine the school's well-intentioned celebration, and they did so at the expense of elementary school students. Their actions were not only cynical, but did a terrible disservice to the students, their families and all of the teachers who work hard on a daily basis to build trust and a productive learning environment."

Undermine? Cynical? This is a blatant case of guilty before proven innocent. The teachers in question are being lynched by the media without being given the chance to state their case. If I were teaching a class and little Jaquan wanted to have RuPaul or Dennis Rodman (or Lil' Kim or Kobe Bryant or Michael Jackson or Omarosa) on his banner, why would I take his role model away from him? It would be my job to encourage independent thought not conformity.

To be honest, I get why the folks might be PO'ed about OJ, although ironically Simpson does appear on the list of approved Black History Month figures. (Someone might want to update that list.) But why are Rodman and RuPaul placed in the same category as a convicted armed robber/kidnapper/possible wife murderer? Sure, Dennis was the bad boy of basketball court as Tiger is now the bad boy of the links. But he's never committed a felony. Should we wipe out his accomplishments because of a few questionable choices?

But let me set OJ and Dennis aside for one moment. Why is it so horrendous that RuPaul was honored with a banner? Because she's a goddess with a penis? The way I look at it...Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, why not RuPaul? Talk about breaking barriers. I get that folks may be uncomfortable with a man in a bustier, however there are many gay boys who need someone to look up to. And what better role model could there be? It took balls of titanium to live the life she's lived.

Perhaps LAUSD's and NAACP's biggest gripe isn't that Dennis Rodman and RuPaul feel comfortable applying eye liner and wearing dresses, it's that they both look damn good doing it.


I'll tell you a story. When I lived in New York, I worked on this film called To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (one of the bulkiest titles in cinema history.) And we were doing these crazy seventeen hour days at Webster Hall in the East Village. Everyone's nerves were fried. On the third day, we were just about to finish the last shot and some of the electricity goes out. There we were, about 200 people, many of them in full drag, at three-thirty in the morning with murder in our eyes. Well, RuPaul was also working on the film and she asks if we would like to hear part of her act. We, of course, cheered like howler monkeys. And she performed a hysterical thirty minute set until the power was restored. Because of RuPaul, not only did we finish our night's work in great spirits, but we all lived to tell about it.

She is referred to as a diva, and I'm not about to take that away from her, but she's also a lady. And shame on Los Angeles Unified School District for not only not accepting RuPaul as a heroine for Black History Month, but shame on them for not getting on their knees and bowing to the queen.

***

Homophobia moment number two deals with California state senator, Roy Ashburn. Now my beef with him isn't that he got a DUI last week. Or that he was arrested after leaving a gay bar in Downtown Sacramento. Or that there was an unidentified, non-government man with him in the government car. Or that last year when questioned if he was gay, he answered, "Why would that be anyone's business?" Or even that six days before he was booked, Ashburn attended the crowning of Miss Gay Latina Sacramento.

No.

I take issue with none of those. (Although, he should watch the DUI thing, just ask Dennis Rodman.) What I find atrocious is Senator Ashburn's voting record. He has unilaterally voted against every gay issue since he took office, from an anti-discrimination bill to out-of-state same sex marriage legislation.

Christopher Cabaldon, West Sacramento's openly gay mayor, who has spotted Asburn out and about at many a gay nightclub, posted on Facebook, "It wouldn't bother me so bad to see Roy Ashburn at Badlands with a boy if he didn't have such a bad voting record on gay rights."

Now, I suppose the argument could be made that California's 18th District, from where Ashburn hales, is a conservative bastion and he would be jobless if he voted for Harvey Milk Day.

But, I find that faulty. If he likes the gay bars and the gay boys and the drag shows, and why shouldn't he, then it strikes me as common decency to legislate for the equal rights of those he's diddling in the back room.

I do not respect de rigueur politics. Nor do I accept his "I just voted how my constituents wanted" excuse.

Hey, Roy, grow a pair of RuPaul balls. You don't need to strut around in Jimmy Choos, but stand up for who you are and maybe you'll gain some respect. And I'm not talking about my respect or your constituency's respect. Look in the mirror, buddy. You need to respect yourself.

***

Homophobia moment number three deals with an irate Facebook message I received from Maxie's birth mother, Phylis. Not directed at me, mind you, but in response to her sister's intolerance. She visited Sissy (I think in Louisiana) and was bombarded with how Maxie isn't "growin up right," the inference of course being that gay parents shouldn't raise kids. And instead of "choke the bitch" Phylis decided to cut her visit short.

Phylis ended her message with the following: PS. i really would kick any one ass for u guys.

Phylis, I'm sorry you had to go through that. I know some of the decisions you've made have not been easy and they required a lot of soul searching. For someone to systematically stomp on your choices really sucks. I'm not always sure why, but closed minded individuals work diligently to maintain their narrow views. It's not always easy, but it's our job to do what we can to protect ourselves and not let them get to us.

And, by the way, right back at you. Tell me where your sister lives. I'll send Michael to kick her ass."

***

I know there are a lot of angry people out there who don't want to hear this but we are here. And we are Democrats, and we are Republicans, and we work right beside you, and live next door to you, and we take out the trash, and we get our teeth cleaned and our tires rotated, and we pick out preschools, and we clip coupons because we're hurting financially, and we plan to watch the Oscars even though we think we already know who'll win, and we play sports competitively, and play instruments harmoniously, and we have talk shows, and pastry shops, and garages, and fitness centers, and we raise families, and we get married in Washington DC, and we give birth, and we mourn those who pass, and we deeply love those who are with us. We are here...

...And we are not going anywhere.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Dueling Ariels

If you've been following Mommy With a Penis, you've heard about my daughter's closet of princess costumes, from tiaras to matching shoes. You've also heard that my son sometimes likes to dress in his sister's things. Well, to support both these themes I dug up this photo from last Halloween...

Sometimes we just have to face the fact that mermaids are huge. When I was a kid, long before the Disney film, I'm a little ashamed to admit that my favorite story was The Little Mermaid. (Didn't everyone have a Hans Christian Anderson anthology?) Granted in that version she was blond and not a plucky redhead, and I don't remember her having a moniker of any sort. She was just a mermaid looking for love: long suffering, pretty and silent. And she had a brassiere made of seashells. What future gay boy wouldn't be enamored.

Michael took Maxie to Target to find her Halloween costume and without qualm she chose Ariel. I was amazed at how quickly she made her choice, because left to her druthers my daughter can hem and haw and still not have settled on an outfit by lunch. But Fate wasn't quite done with us. A day later, our little neighbor brought her old Ariel costume for Maxie to wear. So now we had two mermaids and only one child to dress. Being fast on my feet, I quickly hid the Target costume, price tag still attached, figuring I'd return it later, pocket the cash and put it in my dermabrasion fund. Little did I know that I would almost have mutiny on my hands.

A couple of days after acquiring the mermaids, both my daughter and my son wanted to wear the hand-me-down Ariel costume. I tried to set a rule, "Maxie will wear the costume for five minutes, and then it will be Sebastian's turn," but that new agey parenting technique was met with fury by both parties. I tried to make the other princess dresses seem appealing: beautiful Sleeping Beauty, glam Princess Barbie, sparkly Iridessa (Tinkerbell's sistah fairy friend), but I could sense both of them were about to loose it. It was Ariel or nothing. I weighed my options; all out meltdown or happy siblings. I'll be the first to admit they may have played me but I dug out the Target costume anyway. And total peace was restored.

It should be noted that while Sebastian loved dressing up as Ariel, he decided against transvestism and went trick or treating as a werewolf...his decision.

Dermabrasion, however, is still on hold.