Laid Bare: Essays and Observations Judson, Tom (books successful people read .TXT) đ
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But that evening in June,1994 was only a brief respite from a world that was far from perfect. The AIDS crisis was in full swing and many of our friendsâincluding several at our partyâwere beginning to show symptoms of the disease. The more effective drug cocktails were still more than a year away and the sense of fear was almost inescapable. But we managed to escape it that night as, dressed in our silly party clothes, we said goodbye and farewell to Henry Mancini.
As I rode the treadmill this morning I thought back to that summer evening with a warm nostalgia that only the passage of a dozen years has made possible. Almost half the guests at our party had died by the end of the decade and the memory of them waltzing to âMoon Riverâ makes me smile. But as I watch Tim and Jeffrey arguing over which of them will lead I see them start to disappear even as they waltz, leaving too soon just as they arrived late. Steve Brown sitting in the big chair, obstinately refusing to dance, dematerializes as he rolls his eyes in my direction. Suddenly I find myself dancing alone as Bobby Magnuson evaporates from my arms. And when I look across the room at Bruce, laughing as he steps on Kyleâs toes yet again, he simply fades away along with the final bars of the song..
So many friends gone. But with Henry Manciniâs help they occasionally do unexpectedly reappear. Why, there they are now, just waitinâ âround the bend for Moon River and me.
ââŠSO THAT WE MAY BRING YOUâŠâ
There was a time when entire families gathered in the soft glow of the cathode ray of a console television, hushing one another, as an announcer, in sober, stentorian tones, proclaimed, âOur regularly scheduled program will not be seen this evening so that we may bring you a Special Presentation in Living Color.â
Of course, that brief announcement sometimes spelled disaster: The Watergate Hearings were broadcast from May through July, 1973, uncomfortably overlapping summer vacation, a span of time I had allocated to uninterrupted T.V. viewing.
Suffice to say that the episodes of âThe Match Gameâ that werenât obliterated by summer sunspots were more often than not trammeled by Sam Ervin & Co. (I never watched the hearings unless John Dean was testifyingâI found him strangely sexy and, even as a 12-year-old homo, I appreciated the steely resolve his wife exuded as she sat behind him in her tailored suits and bleached hair pulled tightly into a bun.)
But, fortunately, a preempted program usually brought something truly special in its place. âPeter Panâ and âThe Wizard of Ozâ come to mind. Our entire extended family would traipse to my grandmotherâs, as she possessed the only color television set in the clan.
It seems that there were more preemptions during the holidays than at any other time of the year as the networks hauled out their variety shows and âspectacularsâ as early Christmas gifts to the nation.
My family devoured them all. Halfway through âChristmas With Ray Conniff and the Singersâ my mother announced she was convinced that they were just mouthing along to the album. All four of us kids stampeded out of the living room and returned with the portable record player. After making sure the needle was flipped from 78 to LP we discovered that Mom was right: our scratchy copy of âChristmas With Ray Conniff and the Singersâ synched up perfectly with the voices on T.V.
Was this a good thing or not? Were the people on television sipping cocoa around a roaring fire displaying uncanny abilities or were we at home getting gypped? For that matter, were these photogenic men and women members of The Ray Conniff Singers at all? Mom had unwittingly opened a can of worms with her revelation and planted the seeds of skepticism in a young mind.
Which only meant she had an even harder time trying to explain why Katie from âMy Three Sonsâ was on âThe King Family Christmas Special.â Did Robbie Douglas know his wife was leading this parallel life, that she had all these blond relatives and that she sang? And, most of all, what about their triplets? From my own experience I knew that fathers had little, if anything, to do with raising a family, so, who was watching all those kids? Try as I might, I couldnât imagine Beverly Garland changing a diaper. My anxiety kept me from being able to fully enjoy the show.
Most Holiday Spectaculars followed this basic variety show format, but, one night in 1964, a truly special Special premiered on NBC; âRudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeerâ, presented in something called âAnimagicâ was shown for the first time in what would become an uninterrupted 40-year run. Here was a holiday special for the whole family. Even little gay boys found something in it for them; something that only grew richer and more meaningful with the passing years. We understood exactly what Rudolph went through; who didnât endure that kind of taunting from the other kids at school? But, it wasnât Rudolph with whom budding queers most closely identified, for there among the elvesâin a principal roleâwas one outright, glorious queen.
Consider this dialogue from the choir practice scene in original script:
FOREMAN
(furious)
That sounded terrible. Whatâs wrong with you guys? The tenor section was weak!!
AN ELF
Wasnât our fault, boss. Hermey didnât show up.
FOREMAN
WHAT!! Where is that littleâŠ
(Stops himself.)
I think we all know what the Foreman intended to say.
Hermey the Gay Dentist Elf was unapologetically fabulous. (And letâs get this straight; itâs Hermey, not Herbie.) He, alone, stood out from his oafish co-workers. In the scene above, when the Foreman was asking his whereabouts, Hermey had all the dolls in the workshop lined up working on
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