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SOUTHERN VOICE OCTOBER7/1993 Ten yeans when Be forewarned—this column is a mess. Part theater review, part restaurant critique, part maudlin reminiscence, part aimless intro spection, part political rumination, part real estate kvetching. And all about change. Such is my life on my tenth anniversary of moving to Atlanta. It is Sept. 26,1983, and the combination of forces required to set me in motion—job dis tress, roommate distress, money distress, an aching need to get out of Montgomery, Ala., and the presence of the Atlanta Constitution in a newsstand near the Trailways bus station— have finally hit critical mass. Resumes went out in June, were responded to in July, offers made and accepted in August. I resigned from my paralegal job, and now the moving van is packed, the cat is in my 1972 Dodge Dart Swinger and nothing is left to do but surrender myself to adventure, start the engine and head northeast. Atlanta had called, and somehow, I had found the courage to answer. . Ten years later, to quote Yeats, “all has changed, changed utterly.” My tenth summer saw me engaged in activities unfathomable to the person I was in 1983. Co-existing side-by side in my life were a successful and reward ing effort in organizing a gay male spirituality conference and a fitful and frustrating househunting experience. Now that the con ference is over, I am waiting to see if my fourth real estate contract of the summer will be the first one accepted by a seller. Sept. 26,1993 is also about trying to catch up on things undone. Yesterday, I visited my “faux” nephews—offspring of friends from Montgomery who had twins on the day after my birthday three years ago—for the first time since May. My 10 1/2 year old cat, done in by his flea allergies and my clueless response to his distress, has run away, an instinctive re sponse to imminent death that I hope I have the grace and courage to emulate when my time comes. And a friend and I, finally, have tickets to see Falsettos at the Alliance Theatre. First stop, though, is brunch at The Coun try Place, a gay landmark that just underwent the Stan Topol Makeover Maneuver. Our ador able waiter brings the old, reliable yeast rolls, and I flash back to other occasions celebrated here—at least three various birthdays and a wonderful roommate reunion/Sunday brunch. But today, things are different. Low energy, no bustle, only a few gaggles of gay men enlivening the staid Sunday afternoon Colony all has changed, Square atmosphere. The redone menu doesn’t have my favorite dessert (apple, lemon and honeydew sorbets in a pool of blackberry cassis sauce), and I won der if my brunch ennui is more than simple menu disappointment. I fleetingly envision the ghosts of gay men who’ve brunched and waited here in times past hovering overhead, none too happy with the changes. Perhaps this is just the way a landmark slips toward the mundane, becomes just another brunch stop. The Alliance is a landmark I’ve long avoided, last darkening its door in 1986, when John Cullum was touring as Cyrano. Since then, the various musicals and Shakespeares that were their hallmark have not persuaded me that my time and money would be well spent there. “When will my truth be up there on the stage?” I’ve wondered over the years. The answer is September, 1993. Falsettos is the play with the gay content that Gordon Wysong thought he was yelling about in Cobb County, a play where gay families loudly dem onstrate family values, clearly recognizable to straight audience members. And there are plenty of straight audience members today. Tons of little old Jewish ladies, any one of whom could be one of William Finn’s character’s grandmothers. I find the experience of watching a “gay” play in a “straight” audience—looking for vali dation, fearing derision or incompetent pro duction—surprisingly stressful. “How will they react to the ‘blatant’ gay content of the play?” my co-dependent reflexes make me wonder, changed utterly as though I’m personally responsible if a play I’m watching hurts a grandmother’s feelings about her potential gay grandson. And at first, our fears seemed confirmed, as a large chunk of the audience sits stonily through the hilarious “Four Jews Bitching” opening number. But as Finn unfurls song af ter song that depict his characters’ innate hu manity, from slimy Marvin to his ill-treated lovers Trina and Whizzer, I can feel the audi ence moving. We began in stony silence and ended standing and applauding with tear- streaked cheeks, proving that one good play can do the job of 1,000 propagandists and do it far better. That the Alliance is even doing Falsettos is a testament to the changes 10 years have wrought. Artistic director Kenny Leon deserves credit for taking a theater where “Julius Cae sar” and “Annie, Get Your Gun” once paid the bills and turning into a home for August Wil son and Bill Finn. And let’s not forget the context. The Alliance is the most heavily grant- supported theater in Georgia, and Mr. Leon scheduled a gay play at a time when one hot potato can cost you a bundle of money. That’s courage, folks, even without a gay kiss onstage. This underscores to me our role, in the only Deep South city larger than Chapel Hill with gay rights legislation, on the front lines in the Family Values Wars. We are the pacesetter, the model, the audition spot. You can be sure that if referendums were easy to start in Geor gia, we’d be staring one in the face this No vember. Instead, we have the lovely and tal ented Nancy Schaefer in random, drive-by TV commercials for the next two months. Can’t wait, can you? But seeing common cause made between us and Kenny Leon, or Bill Campbell, to name two, reminds me that something special is oc curring here. Seeing a portion of my truth on the Alliance stage is yet another reward for a well-chosen 10-year-old risk. And seeing our community’s depth and breadth of talent and commitment makes me ferociously glad to have chosen Atlanta over the “safer” choices such as Charlotte or Birmingham or Montgomery. And Sunday night at approximately 6 p.m., a very nice woman in unincorporated DeKalb County decided to sell me her townhouse. The Country Place can slide, the Alliance can soar and its audiences transform, and I can even move closer to—but absolutely not outside of—the Perimeter. Isn’t change, in a horrify ing sort of way, delightful? LETT Divided into incomplete halves E R S Staying in Cobb “Brava” to Tonya who had the courage to step forward as an African-American lesbian [SoVo, Sept. 2] As a loud, proud African dyke, SWITCH eP AT BIRTH I too have felt the sting of disapproval I often receive from heterosexual African Americans. We are asked to choose sides, to divide our selves into two incomplete halves, all in the name of solidarity. My queemess is as much a part of me as my blackness, and I am equally proud to be a card-carrying member of both groups. The pressure to conform to heterosexist standards bears heavy on the consciences of lesbians and gays of African descent. Unlike non-black gays and lesbians, we bear the cross of racism and depend on our people for solace and refuge. It is understandable why so many of us choose to remain silent; however, it is no longer acceptable. Being in the closet gives the impression that you have something to be ashamed of. Just as you are proud of your race, be proud of your sexual orientation. Don’t shy away from political action groups. Do not be afraid to say who you really are. Being “in the life” means more than going out to clubs. It means living openly and honestly, without shame. Cecily C. Walker Atlanta Kudos to Ken Pauli for his letter [SoVo, Sept. 29). I, too, agree that Cobb is a viable alternative to noisier, costly areas. As an ex tremely out and vocal dyke, I too feel some embarrassment in acknowledging where I live. You can imagine how I felt when my brother (who is also gay) from Tulsa questioned me about my safety. Not a pretty picture, indeed. Frankly, I’m tired of people telling me that I should move. Sure, it would be convenient for my lover Angie and I to uproot and move to “gayer” pastures. I considered it for a while, but why should we sacrifice our lives over someone else’s stupidity? Like Ken, we’re staying to vote those nar row-minded bigots out of office. We’re sup porting gay-friendly businesses and boycott ing those who cringe when asked how they feel about gays and lesbians. The more we demand our rights and realize that prejudice abounds virtually everywhere, the more we are empowered as a community and as “fam ily,” regardless of residence. Tracey R. Davis Marietta :v CARL LANGE Sour note in Cobb Adding to the list of organizations chal lenging the Cobb County commissioners’ condemnation of lesbian and gay citizens is the Atlanta Federation of Musicians. The 1,100 member union expressed “extreme disfavor regarding the Cobb County Commission’s irresponsible singling out and condemning a group of dedicated, cre ative and talented, tax-paying citizens...” The union, whose membership includes 60 counties in Georgia (Cobb included) and three in South Carolina, has asked the Cobb Commission to rescind the anti-gay resolution and restore funding to the arts. The AFM deserves applause. Write John Head, president, The Atlanta Federa tion of Musicians, 551 Dutch Valley Road NE, Atlanta GA 30324. The phone num ber is (404) 873-2033. Johnson Wax is “CLeaRed” Johnson Wax Company has apparently bowed to the forces of bigotry launched by Christian Leaders for Responsible Tele vision (CLeaR-TV). According to John son Wax spokesperson Thomas Conrardy, “CLeaR-TV has lifted the national boy cott against SC Johnson, following a meet ing [the company] had with representa tives of CLeaR-TV. We are confident that the mutual understanding will strengthen our ability to avoid programs that are not in good taste or inconsistent with our own values.” CLeaR-TV’s boycott against Johnson Wax was for its sponsorship of “pro-ho mosexual” television programs that fea tured “lesbian innuendo.” Johnson Wax’s “mutual understanding” with a hate group that attempts to censor lesbians, gays or bisexuals from television is alarming. John son Wax needs to define “good taste” and “values” and explain which groups of citi zens they feel should be excluded from that list. Write Thomas R. Conrardy, di rector, Consumer Resource Center, SC Johnson Wax, 1525 Howe Street, Racine W1 53403-5011. The phone number is (414) 631-2000. Putting spin on hate In the August issue of the music maga zine Spin, Farad Chidcya examines the use of homophobic lyrics in his hip-hop, rap and dance hall reggae music. Chideya concludes that blatantly homophobic lyr ics are an attempt to deny the existence of homosexuality within the African Ameri can community and that more performers need to come back with their own response, using rap as the format. Send compliments to Bob Guccione,. Jr., editor, Spin, 6 West 18th Street, New York, NY 10011. . Upcoming events: GLAAD Meet the Press, Oct. 18, 7 p.m. at the Peachtree Library across from the High Museum. All are invited to attend this panel discus sion by local journalists. GLAAD/Atlanta Naming Names, Oct. 18, 10:30 p.m. First television version of GLAAD/News on “Out in Atlanta” on Cable 12 TV. This column is a product of the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation!At lanta, Inc. For more information, or to report an instance of defamation, contact GLAAD/Atlanta at PO Box 55111, Atlanta GA 30308 or call (404) 605-7477. Al Kielwasser of GLAADISFBA con tributed to this column.