RuPaul at Town Hall 3-4-24
Hey kids!
How was your week? I know, I know…I missed you, too. Last week felt like a 10 car pile-up of deadlines and obligations and annoying mishugas but I did me and snuck some fun in there, too. What made me happiest was an abundance of stolen moments with great friends. Now that I live out of the immediate proximity of so many of them, this is a challenge. Luckily for me, it’s a challenge I can overcome with time, a working car, and gas (the $2.97 a gallon kind at Costco).
I’ve been writing a feature article about friendship as I’m wont to do once in a while, and the exercise always gets me thinking about what connects two people and what keeps them connected.
After all, your friendship is the ultimate gift you can give another human being. It pays to be picky. At the risk of getting all metaphysical on your ass, I believe friendship happens when two people vibe on the same frequency and mutual understanding is intuitive. When you meet someone on another frequency, an interpreter can’t even get you on the same page. But when you meet someone you get and that gets you without significant effort on either part? That cosmic special sauce of looking for a comrade across the room to find them searching your eyes to glean if you observed that same absurd thing they did? That’s a gold mine worth celebrating right there!
Then, of course, the “work” comes in. The “work” of making the time and effort to know the other person better; the “work” of making the time and effort to stay connected and build on that knowing; the “work” of meeting each other half way when time and effort don’t come easy. How have we come to see these very normal efforts to stay connected as “work?”
Nothing feels like “work” if the juice is worth the squeeze.
Life is long and short at the same time, so you may as well spend it with people you see and hear as they laugh and cry (as they see and hear you), and/or are happy to share a perspective that makes the journey more enjoyable. This has nothing to do with your physical location but everything to do with where you’re at mentally and emotionally. Feel me?
Anywho, a week ago, I met up with my friend Christine, jumped out of my sweats into some garb that wasn’t sweats and made my way to Town Hall to see RuPaul talk about their new book House of Hidden Meanings, and announce the launch of their new online bookstore, Allstora.
I used to see Ru perform in the club, as it were, as a baby art student in 80s NYC. So when “Supermodel” introduced her to the world and I was back in Boston working a zillion miserable jobs to put food in my mouth and gas in my tank, I couldn’t help but show up at her Strawberries in-store to thank her for her service.
Me (far right, busted wrist), Sean, and Carlotta, paying homage.
As one would expect from Le Ru, the Town Hall chat was full of bon mots and pearls of self-improvement wisdom. I’ll sum it up in a few bullet points:
Go ahead and laugh at yourself. Out loud. We are all fucking ridiculous. We are not meant to take ourselves seriously.
Keep a pic of your 7-year-old self in your phone (as Ru does) and vow to protect it against the overwhelming tides of bullshit in this world. You’re carrying that kid with you everywhere you go, so you may as well make it literal to see how it affects you.
How in the hell are you gonna love yourself if you don’t get to know yourself? (Hence, the “house” and the “hidden meanings.”) Synchronicity and synergy is hard at work in your life, sending you little signals and affirmations to interpret. Learn to read the signs and your path to greatness will clear (or something like that).
TEEVEE
The Traitors Finale (SPOILERS)
Did you see this travesty?! This upending of all that is good and holy? This photo here, when MJ turned on Kate, was the beginning of MJ’s end. I was GAGGED. GOOPED. CHOKED. Poor faithful MJ got royally screwed OVAH out of all that money by CT and Trishelle and their unresolved sexual tension. If you ask me, Phaedra should’ve taken Trishelle out episodes ago. Regardless, it was an epic conclusion to a fine piece of reality television. I hope they hurry up with a third season this fall because I’m counting on the second coming of RHOSLC’s Monica Garcia on that cast. Mark my words.
The Oscars
The Oscars can be BOOOOORING but all told, this was a decent show. Kimmel has a way with this crowd that gives all of his jokes a soft landing. He won the night when he read that Tweet from who I’ll graciously refer to as that dickhead and gave this swift rebuttal: “Isn’t it past your jail time?” My Oscars go to him and Ryan Gosling for his rousing Kendition (see what I did there?) of “I’m Just Ken.”
A few observations about the awards you may not have read literally everywhere else:
In this age of ubiquitous Ozempic, John Cena verified that thick thighs save lives.
Al Pacino opened that Best Picture envelope like a Costco flyer.
All this Oppenheimer praise is making me not want to see Oppenheimer (but I probably will).
Feud: Capote vs. The Swans
If you’ve read my prior gushing about this show, I maintain the writing and acting in this series is STELLAR and well worth your time. Naomi Watts and Tom Hollander really brought their A-game. It’s also given me my affirmation of the week, because I will die on (while trying to climb) this hill.
Never say die, bitches. Until next week! RIP the great songwriter Karl Wallinger (World Party, Waterboys), and Eric Carmen, another great songwriter.
xoxoxo
Thick thighs…😆
I love this! Agree with everything you said about friendships. It’s so witchy-weird-and-right when you just click with someone and you know they are your person. I wish I could collect all my people and put them in a giant canal house in Amsterdam with me.
I can not fucking wait for The Swans to be released here. I’m dying! I need it!! 🦢