This is NOT a President’s Day Post

In fact, it’s not really a post at all actually, but rather, a recent facebook status update I made. One that I feel should be thrown into a larger web of the social media. One that, with a singular simple addition of a word (and more than a whole slew of singular edits), I feel will work pretty danged well for this week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge:

FUNK (noun)  3 :  SLUMP  <an economic funk>  <the team went into a funk>

Picture11-1While struggling to swallow my latest fit of depression tonight at work, I met a mom who had really nice kids, and pretty sweet tats. As these things transpire, in conversation I found out that each tattoo represented one of the children. As she explained each in turn, I learned that the child whom I thought the most mature (a birthday boy JUST turned twelve who simply HAD to have Minecraft merch to celebrate properly), was born with autism. But it was his sister who stole my heart and gave me hope, in that at no more than 10 years old, she knew that she was transgender – a knowledge held since six years of age according to the mom. To date, she is the youngest transgender person I believe I have ever met.

While mom shared with me that her daughter was treated very poorly by her classmates and the school, the girl that stood before me was still a happy, well-adjusted kid. One who knew and was comfortable with whom she was, and (from my vantage point) well-loved by her family. Including her baby brother, whom she could not carry correctly, even had he come with instructions sewn in. Seeing them all (four kids and one mom with pretty sweet tats) woke me up out of my self-imposed pity-party over my current (and hopefully temporary) funk, to the idea that there are still a LOT of really good people out there. People who love without condition. People who would rather build each other up, then tear each other down. People who can, willingly I would assume, love something much bigger than only themselves.

I’m glad that that mom, her kids, and her sweet tats came in tonight. I’m glad to know that they exist out there. This world is five people better off as a result.


Admittedly, the song chosen today has absolutely not one singular thing to do with the post, but honestly, how many challenges come along that provide you with the *perfect* cue to end with this gem?


It’s sort of a shame that it’s taken me so long to write about this. You see, I have a dirty little secret. A fantastically gorgeous and fierce dirty little secret. I’m addicted to “RuPaul’s Drag Race”. And “Drag U.” And, I would imagine, any other show that eventually decides to be created under the RuPaul moniker as well.

click for Drag Race’s facebook page

I’m not alone in my fantastically gorgeous and fierce dirty little secret either. No, in fact, some friends and I created a secret group on facebook to celebrate our addiction. Our group’s name? Why “Heathers,” of course. Now, I’m not going to explain the significance of this name, as I would first have to go into detail about one of the finest movies Christian Slater and the 80’s ever gave us, and I would then have to delve deeply into Drag Race’s third season to make you understand. It’s a lot to go through just to explain a fantastically gorgeous and fierce secret group’s name, and I’ve no patience for the task. So if you want to know why we called ourselves that, you’ll just have to do the legwork yourself.

Other than the name, the membership, and the dirty little secret, our group is otherwise pretty nondescript. There are both men and women, both gay and straight. We’re stretched all across the continental U.S., and (at least one) who lives overseas. Strange word, “overseas.” I much prefer “abroad,” but I didn’t want you to think I was making a drag pun by using it. We all have work-a-day normal lives and to my knowledge, none of us has any sort of super human powers (one member does have a sock fetish, but I don’t think that counts). In short, we’re just an average bunch of folk who all know good taste when we see it. We were formed on the “you tell two friends, and so on, and so on…” type of mentality, and as a result, there’s many in the group who I’ve never actually met. Possibly some of us are even drag queens ourselves, but I am not. Not because I wouldn’t, but rather, because I really couldn’t (let’s just say that, dressing as Jackie O one Halloween, there were multiple people who felt the need to tell me just how lucky I was to have not have been born a woman).

As you can imagine, we like to get all catty about the shows, and – depending on how much vodka has been consumed – usually have a window of at least several “spoiler” hours set aside before we start dishing about whichever last episode aired. Some of us are quite vocal about the whole thing *raising my hand* and others are almost completely silent. We gab, not only about Drag Race, but other gay-related items as well. “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert,” other drag performers, “Project Runway,” (Saint) Tim Gunn, disco videos and George Takei (because it so IS OK, to be Takei!) have all been topics on our wall. In fact, when we first started our fantastically gorgeous and fierce secret group, the page’s picture was one of Bebe Neuwirth, looking all badass sexy, in a mustache of course.

In the world of secret facebook groups, I’m sure we’re only one of several devoted to “Drag Race” – heck, maybe even you’re a member of one as well? – and I’m sure that we’re not adding anything substantial to the human experience through our shared fandom. But then again, it can’t all be about adding to the human experience, now can it? Sometimes it just has to be about feeling gorgeous. Fierce even. I think – and I’m being very aware that by speaking for them all, I could very well be doing them all a great disservice – that we like RuPaul’s shows because the contestants live a sort of gorgeous that we, for whatever reason, can not. I mean, there’s also the entertainment value of each performer as well (what? Never been to a drag show? Well then, get out of your Puritanical panties and go see one. Now! Trust me when I say that you will NOT be disappointed). One of my favorites – Pandora Boxx – used to live up in my neck of the woods, but upon becoming famous, decided to “Go West” (again, if you don’t get the reference and/or don’t find yourself singing a certain Village People song right now, then I’ve hardly the time or inclination to explain it to you). She’s not a fave of mine because of her geographical kinship however, but rather because she’s funny, smart and sassy. True, she is also a “he,” but when she’s dolled up, she’s a cutey to boot. And oh, her wardrobe is to die for. I mean, assuming you like big hats with model trains running around them. I think it was trains. It could’ve been Matchbox cars though. Or maybe something else. Hey, cut me some slack. There’s a lot of “stuff” involved with drag outfits, OK? I can’t be expected to remember every detail.

Anywho. I’m sure I had a point to all this, but it has plumb run straight out of my head just now. Oh yes!  My point was simply this. RuPaul, her drag judges, drag professors and drag contestants all provide us with a little bit of gorgeous. A little bit of fierce. They all have the creativity, uniqueness, nerve and talent (again, look it up) to provide a bit of catty, yet positive, entertainment in an otherwise gloomy world. In short, in between a steady stream of drinking plain old tap water, they provide a cool refreshing sip of fruit punch. Those of us in Heathers appreciate that, and felt strongly enough to create a fantastically gorgeous and fierce secret group to celebrate it.  And it could be said, that by allowing us a little corner of our lives to not add anything substantial to the human experience, Ru’s girls are doing just that.

Can I get an “Amen” up in here?


PS – the next episode of RuPaul’s Drag U is on TONIGHT! Find Logo TV on your local listings, and give it a watch. Assuming that you know good taste when you see it, you’ll be glad you did!