"Well, If Everyone's So Equal, Why Are You So Fucking Lame?" or "You Still Think We're Talking About Cupcakes!"
Today I got to watch two of my friends live out their feminist role-model fantasies.
First, we spent four hours turning Dave into Bea Arthur for the big Golden Girls night at Stonewall. For the record, that's a party devoted to a TV show about sexually active elderly feminists, located at the birthplace of the modern gay rights movement, which began when a group of drag queens and transgender people rioted against the police. Dave, in FLAWLESS Bea-titude, sang "Sophie," a song about his childhood dog (whom he named after Sophia Petrillo).
After his triumphant performance, I ran over to Cakeshop for a set by Partyline, featuring Allison Wolfe of BRATMOBILE fame. Max was go-go dancing on stage. Allison had written across his stomach "PxRxDxCxT," i.e.: "Punk Rock Dream Come True." Before they even started the first song, our lady Allison was playfully railing against a guy who had sexually harassed her earlier in the evening. For those of us who listened to Bratmobile and other riot grrl bands as kids, but had never actually been to a show, watching her LAY DOWN THE LAW as such was, in no uncertain terms, a PxRxDxCxT. They rocked super-hard, and Max danced accordingly, with between-song looks of "I Cannot Believe This Is Happening." When Allison lost her voice at the end of the set, she Just Stopped Singing, which I found super-empowering.
After the show I went backstage to get my coat, where Max and Johnny Darling and I got to hear late 90s alternative rock band gossip. Yet another PxRxDxCxT. I also got to find out who "1...2...3...Many!" was written about. PxRxDxCxT, again.
As I was leaving, Johnny said, "Where are you going?" I said, "To my bed." He said, "Where you belong!" I couldn't agree with him more!
Earlier in the day, Cole and I went to Sam and Julie's house to film a new video for Joyce Conner. It should be on YouTube as soon as I edit the footage together. You will see a side of Joyce that you always assumed was there, but never actually saw for yourself. You might need a tissue box. And a warm towel.
Before the shoot, I read 30 pages of "Faggots" by Larry Kramer, a book I should have read around 26 years ago.
Love
Dan
First, we spent four hours turning Dave into Bea Arthur for the big Golden Girls night at Stonewall. For the record, that's a party devoted to a TV show about sexually active elderly feminists, located at the birthplace of the modern gay rights movement, which began when a group of drag queens and transgender people rioted against the police. Dave, in FLAWLESS Bea-titude, sang "Sophie," a song about his childhood dog (whom he named after Sophia Petrillo).
After his triumphant performance, I ran over to Cakeshop for a set by Partyline, featuring Allison Wolfe of BRATMOBILE fame. Max was go-go dancing on stage. Allison had written across his stomach "PxRxDxCxT," i.e.: "Punk Rock Dream Come True." Before they even started the first song, our lady Allison was playfully railing against a guy who had sexually harassed her earlier in the evening. For those of us who listened to Bratmobile and other riot grrl bands as kids, but had never actually been to a show, watching her LAY DOWN THE LAW as such was, in no uncertain terms, a PxRxDxCxT. They rocked super-hard, and Max danced accordingly, with between-song looks of "I Cannot Believe This Is Happening." When Allison lost her voice at the end of the set, she Just Stopped Singing, which I found super-empowering.
After the show I went backstage to get my coat, where Max and Johnny Darling and I got to hear late 90s alternative rock band gossip. Yet another PxRxDxCxT. I also got to find out who "1...2...3...Many!" was written about. PxRxDxCxT, again.
As I was leaving, Johnny said, "Where are you going?" I said, "To my bed." He said, "Where you belong!" I couldn't agree with him more!
Earlier in the day, Cole and I went to Sam and Julie's house to film a new video for Joyce Conner. It should be on YouTube as soon as I edit the footage together. You will see a side of Joyce that you always assumed was there, but never actually saw for yourself. You might need a tissue box. And a warm towel.
Before the shoot, I read 30 pages of "Faggots" by Larry Kramer, a book I should have read around 26 years ago.
Love
Dan
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Dan Fishback is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions in behalf of Dan Fishback may be made payable to Fractured Atlas and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.
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