Bring It: January 19, 2011: The Gay Standard

As I’m about to embark on the largest gay cruise in history (Atlantis’ 20th anniversary Allure of the Seas), my every waking thought is about high queens on the high seas.

The amount of planning, organizing and purchasing (not to mention grooming and starving!) going into this gaycation is more than a little bit daunting, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it will be more than worth it.

The gaytopia of what I lovingly call The Dick Deck is hard to overstate. It’s life as it should be for anyone who loves their gays, and that’s saying a lot coming from the gay capital of the universe. The gay agenda is proudly on display 24/7 (along with 6,000 men in speedos!), and it really is a beautiful sight to behold.

I love my gays for always wanting to make everything beautiful, whether it’s the coordinated costumes for all the theme parties or the idealized vision of “the way we play,” with silly poolside games, dramatic shows and customized trick cards so you can remember all the friends you made along the way.

I often refer to “The Gay Standard” as the reason why I always felt like an outcast among straight people. Gayer is simply better, and it’s because of the intention and energy that go into making it so. It’s no accident that arts and design and lifestyle professions are dominated by high queens who insist on making everything just so.

Whether it’s my fabulous hairstylist Gib at G.H.Bolton, or my gorgeous Brazilian trainer Carlos Mandacaru at Sessions Training Center, I’ve had a lot of help and inspiration building this beautiful life I’m living. I’m bursting with excitement about sharing it with the Men of Atlantis, who are coming from all over to experience something like San Francisco at sea.

Aside from the most beautiful version of our selves that we’ll have on display aboard the Allure, the San Framily will represent the inner beauty and palpable joy that’s possible when everyday life offers as much freedom as the open ocean. Because living out loud and proud is just how we marys roll along!

I won’t be writing Bring It! while I’m on The Love Boat, so this column will skip an issue, and I won’t be hosting Nasty at the Powerhouse on February 4, either. Even the hardest-working hag needs a break, and beautiful Walter Gomez will be making sure there’s still a chance to STICK IT IN for charity while I’m busy swooning over seamen.

Bring It: January 7, 2011: Set Your Intention for Harm-Reduction

My gays have always taught me that “more is more, less is a bore.” While that’s certainly true with glitter, there’s also something to be said for moderation, and the excess of the holigays gave me an opportunity to practice something I’ve been preaching on the dancefloor for ages: harm-reduction.

The idea of harm-reduction is basically personal responsibility, but it’s also about taking care of our own. It’s a fine intention to set for the new year, and all it really requires is general awareness and a little bit of compassion.

We all love to test our limits. We’ve all felt the high from getting away with it, and we’ve all experienced the danger and humiliation of not knowing when enough was enough.

No one wants to have her head in a trash can or leave the club on a stretcher. A little empathy can go a long ways when you see someone melt down into a hot mess under the discoball, and it’s really not hard to just treat that person as you hope to be treated when it’s your turn to go too far. And if your turn never comes? All the better. You can thank that hot mess for reminding you why your last drink, bump, pill or whatever needed to be your last for a minute.

This is a situation where community really makes a difference. It’s a perfect moment to let go of judgment and extend yourself beyond your boundaries. More times than not, simply reaching out to someone who looks like they might be in trouble can shock that person back to their senses and pull them back from the brink of disaster.

It costs nothing to give someone a gentle nudge, look him in the eyes and ask sincerely if he is ok or needs help. I know I’d much rather get help from a circuit sister than from law enforcement, and many times an emergency medical situation can be avoided simply by telling someone they need to pull themselves together.

“Eyes open and upright” is a great rule of thumb, and dancing it out always makes for a better night than falling out. There really is safety in our numbers, and I hereby resolve that you can lean on me the next time your swirl goes south. It’s the least I can do in return for all the ways I love my gays.

Happy New Year!

Bring It: Many glittery blessings

This might sound more Grinchy than glittery, but for me, the holidays are more of a ritual of survival than celebration.

Somehow, the sparkle of the season just doesn’t do it for me when the weather outside is frightful, and the constant temptation of sugar cookies and egg nog wreaks havoc on my circuit starvation diet.

Growing up Jewish certainly doesn’t help me appreciate reindeer games, and when winter and darkness arrive, the call of the disco ball is often overpowered by my inclination to be a bear and hibernate.

But this year is different, much to my surprise. When I recently attended “Light in the Grove” at the National AIDS Memorial Grove - a unique, stunning and solemn gala honoring so many who have given so much to the cause - I was reminded that giving is at the heart of the holidays.

I was also reminded that Christmas (I prefer to think of it as Xmas) is about appreciating our loved ones and counting our blessings, and for this I have Miss Donna Sachet to thank. While her Songs of the Season show benefits my favorite charity, the AIDS Emergency Fund, and while I was so honored to be invited by the empress herself (my personal hero), I really didn’t know how I’d respond to an evening packed with Christmas songs, which generally irritate me no end.

Not surprisingly, Donna stole the show, irreverently adapting the songs to fit her bubbly yet biting wit, and also her personal holiday narrative. Her tales from 18 years (!) of  raising funds for AEF had me all choked up, and helped me get in the spirit, in spite of myself.

Typically, I reserve my holiday spirit for two of my favorite dance parties of the year, and this year I’m no less excited to attend both Black XXXmas on December 18 and Mass on January 2 (both at 1015 Folsom). It’s no secret that I’m a ho ho ho for DJs Abel and Jamie J Sanchez, and that I love nothing more than a leathery overlay to any kind of “traditional” holigay.

Which brings me to another surprise of the season, my very first Xmas tree! Normally I get all agro-environmentalist over the fallen trees that litter Christmastime, but I couldn’t help smiling like a kid on Christmas morning when a tree festooned with leather flags, rainbow tulle and enough disco balls to kill any queen showed up in the living room of my apartment, also known as The Home for Wayward Castro Boys. Thanks to Graig Cooper and Tod Epperson for bringing it!

As this year comes to a close, I’ll actually have some sappy sentiments moving my spirit on the dancefloor, and I’ll be sure to count my many glittery blessings. Getting to be the Original Fag Hag of San Francisco is a gift I never take for granted, and something I live to celebrate all year long.

Bring It: Finding religion on the mat and on the dancefloor

I’m not a religious person, but with seasonal change and holiday rituals, I can’t help but reflect on where and how I find religion in this crazy life.

For me, the circle of life goes from reckless release under the discoball to reprieve and reflection on the yoga mat. When there’s balance between both, bliss is mine. When one or the other is neglected, even glitter can’t make me right.

On the dancefloor, divinity comes from the DJ. On the mat at Gold’s Gym Castro, it comes in the form of a goddess named Maria Stanford. Every Sunday morning she preaches to our gayborhood “church,” encouraging us to set an intention about whatever it is that we hold sacred.

I’m a true believer in what Maria describes as “prana,” or “life force.” It’s exactly what I’m seeking, whether I’m moving my body to the beat or getting grounded in downward dog.

Breathing hard, sweating hard, and manclimbing hard (like I do on the dancefloor) are what remind me that I’m alive and that life is damn good when you live over the rainbow in Oz. The music that moves my spirit is what some would call church music - anthems with a classic gay sound, upbeat and soulful, rooted in disco with vocals almost certainly derived from gospel choirs. My spiritual songs have themes about redemption and salvation.

In yoga, we learn about “energy work,” and everyone in the room can feel the vibe as we soak up the sense of communal connection that Maria inspires. On the dancefloor we refer to a tribal sensibility, with the beat moving us collectively as one, and lately it’s our local DJs – Craig Gaibler and Russ Rich, to be specific – that leave me feeling blessed by their beats.

When the connection is there - when the prana is flowing - it’s magical. A simple smile from the shirtless man on the yoga mat next to yours, or from the shirtless boy at the club who accidentally bumps butts with you, can turn what might otherwise be a mindless workout into a mystical revelation.

I live for these moments, for what DJs call “the nod.” A mutual recognition of the life force we share is the best kind of high, and I’m lucky enough to experience it regularly, with friends and San Framily that inspire me to keep bringing it as hard as I can.

Can I get an amen?

Bring It: November 5, 2010: Double Rainbows of Hope

Typically, my multiple personalities veer toward corporate sellout vs. gogo dancer, or leatherman vs. drag queen, but a recent charity event I was so excited to attend had me of two minds in an entirely different way.

All glittered up at Project Inform’s Evening of Hope, I could barely appreciate the condom-coated fashion show that is the party’s signature. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the crisis behind the couture.

The champagne flowed freely, but the sobering message that kicked off the cabaret of Coco Peru made me feel more flat than fizzy. Decades later, we’re still talking about how prevention is the cure when it comes to HIV, and how, until there’s a cure, there’s catastrophe.

The number of new infections is beyond alarming, all these years of education and activism later. Despite our advances in medical science and social policy, the urgency remains. But then there’s the flip side.

AIDS is still rock bottom for bottoms, but when it comes to the fight for gay civil rights, we’re dominating tops, and there is no doubt in my mind that we are winning the war.

I can’t help but think there’s a connection. I suppose hope is born from the darkest places, and if it weren’t for the ferocious and flawless way our community has been forced to rally around our causes, the public dialogue wouldn’t even include phrases like “domestic partnership,” “marriage equality” or “civil union.” The closets would still be overflowing, along with the shame and self-loathing.

So as hopeless I feel sometimes about not even remembering a time before HIV anymore, there are still double rainbows of hope on the horizon.

In all the struggle for salvation from this plague that torments our beloved community, I can see clearly over the double rainbow. among my San Framily and all the righteous organizations that have risen up in arms to fight the good gay fight, what hasn’t yet killed us is making us “bigga, betta, harda, stronga.”

Our ballot initiatives here in San Francisco may earn us the “fruits and nuts” stereotype in the eyes of the rest of our ass-backward country. Yet our San Framilial intimacy with this fight has brought us together in a way that makes us a model to the haters that try to take us down. We’re definitely making progress and change. And quickly.

But just as I get impatient about how damn long I’ve been a sistah in this struggle, I find religion. Dan Savage, you are my savior. I’m holy rolling on your realness. Your keen gay wit and wisdom make you my hero of Alpha Gayness.

“It Gets Better” is the best thing we ever could have asked for. It’s the best possible representation of everything that’s good and right about the gayer and better life we have here in Oz. The message is simple and powerful. It’s one genius idea that delivers perfectly on Harvey Milk’s promise and plea, “You gotta give ‘em hope.” Thank you, Dan Savage, for giving hope to me and millions. Just like that.

I’m just so thankful to be living in the gayest city on earth. Even if enjoying and appreciating all that our beautiful little bubble gives me in return for loving my gays. It’s wearing me out before the holigay season even begins, but we just gotta keep on bringing it as best we can.

Bring It: October 22, 2010: Massive Masquerade

The thing about being a circuit whore is that you end up eating your words all the time.

I’m not saying I’m full of…glitter, but just when I think I’m completely jaded, I realize that no, I just happen to live in the Emerald City of Oz. And just like in the movie, when we find ourselves at the end of the yellow brick road, we need green-tinted glasses “to protect us from the city’s brightness and glory.”

When costumes and fantasy and fierce alter-egos are part of your every day, it can be challenging to get geared up for Halloween, especially when it comes at the end of our long and ecstatically exhausting season of street fairs and holigays.

But just when I think I’m over it, I’m surprised again. And just when I think there’s nothing new under the sun, a double rainbow appears.

This year I’m crazy excited about Massive Masquerade at 1015 Folsom on Halloween night. So many of my favorite tricks and treats are coming together at once, I must shut my mouth about how Halloween in San Francisco is dead.

It may not be the mary mayhem the Castro once was, but with Industry and Gus Presents teaming up to deliver DJs Jamie J Sanchez and Russ Rich opening for remix masters The Freemasons, there’s just no way it won’t be absolutely epic.

And I’ll keep the Halloween spirit going into the next weekend, when Nasty: A Filthy Fun-Raiser for the AIDS Emergency Fund returns to The Powerhouse on Friday, November 5.

I thought I left my gothic darkness behind in high school, but my vampyre fetish returned along with True Blood. So please rock your party fangs and join me for “Vampyres Never Get Old” night. Halloween will be over, but I won’t be over it. We’ll celebrate the fact that, in San Francisco, it doesn’t have to be Halloween to dress up and play a part and be undead or glamorous or ridiculous – or all of the above - in the name of pure fun.

It’s actually more fun to bring it “just because.” Halloween or otherwise, there’s no place like home.

Bring It! October 8, 2010: The Circle of Friends

When the party circuit that is my life starts to feels like an amazing race, I take heart in the circle of friends that keeps me running.

Whether you call your circle of friends your posse, tribe, mafia, entourage or San Framily, you know who they are. And while it’s hard to steal away enough time for even the occasional disco nap, it’s important to make enough time to reflect on the people who make up your circle of friends and what they really mean to you.

Together, we go through life’s ups and downs, ins and outs, and all the drama in between. Sometimes we’re there for each other in a big way, and sometimes not as much, but the circle always holds true.

Sometimes the people in your circle of friends make you crazy, but in return, they sometimes let you drive them crazy, too. Sometimes you go crazy together, and then you make everyone around you crazy by reliving those moments again and again.

There’s giggles and tears, hopes and fears, and there’s moments where you question everything and can’t make sense of anything. The nearest and dearest in your circle of friends tell you what you want to hear, and also what you don’t want to hear but need to hear anyways.

Your circle of friends is your reality check. Sometimes it’s comforting, and sometimes it’s confusing, but when you’re living the dream in the land of Oz, it’s priceless.

From the outside, your circle of friends might look like a silly circle jerk, but the reality is more like a sewing circle. By joining forces, we get things done, make a difference and process it all, and along the way we grow up, learn to get by and get better all the time.

In San Francisco, there’s no reason to choose between friends and family. They’re one and the same, and the San Framily model holds together a community that everywhere else in the world is under a microscope, if not under attack.

But San Framily values hold up against anyone’s moral code. In staying true to our selves, we gain the strength to be a force for what’s real and right in the world. When we have room and support to be good to our selves, we can be good to everyone around us, over the rainbow and beyond.