Continued from "Queering Poverty, Part I," written in the 2000s when I was in my 20s and most of my income went to paying interest on student loans and I lived in a gross, dangerous slum and also had some really good times that are fun to look back on. Having a bit of fun within a generally frugal life isn't just mental health survival self-care, it's also an investment in future joy. Happy memories can serve as a delightful escape to get through tough or boring times like, say, a dumpster fire of a pandemic.
And now, in December 2020, we finally have access not just to our past memories of partying but to some tentative future plans! As we await the imminent distribution of coronavirus vaccines, we can finally dare to dream about the rockin' good times we'll have out in public sometime within the next year! Soon, we can stop dressing up "just for ourselves" or just to take a photo at home to post on the internet--which was always an enjoyable prelude to going out anyway.
We have to wait a little longer to actually go out and dance in crowds, but we don't need to wait any longer to look forward to it. You'd better be on YouTube or TikTok, brushing up on your dance moves now. Remember, at least half the joy in fun plans has always been the antici...
Queering Poverty, Part II
I think I need a cigarette.
Last night's live performance of Rocky Horror Picture Show was well worth the $12 (with student ID).
Apparently I lost my live show "virginity" because I had only seen the movie before. The live performance added a whole new dimension or two, I mean literally, by allowing us to share the actual same space and time as the actors, who were climbing over our laps and running up and down the aisles like glitter monkeys. There were also some obnoxious drunk frat boys who continuously threw objects at the wrong times and yelled things like, "Boobs!" These were mostly ignored, while funny or clever outbursts received acknowledgement and banter from the cast. A couple of times, the frat boys started to get dangerously rowdy, and the actor playing Frank-n-Furter dropped his girly voice and bellowed, "SHUT UP! I RUN THIS SHOW!" or merely pointed at someone and barked, "NO!" with surprising efficacy. A couple of times, he beaned some idiot in the head with whatever they had thrown at him--from the back row. Girlfriend had some beefy arms and the deadliest aim I've ever seen. And it did shut them up, at least for a little while. You have to learn how to have good taste in bad taste, you know?
The costume and makeup style was very different from the movie, using a neon color theme. Frank-n-Furter was played by a FEROCIOUS queen in hot pink Barbie shoes, assless chaps, and a rainbow spike wig. Riffraff looked something like Grave Robber in that stupid Paris Hilton movie... but sparklier, and with neon blue highlights in his dreads. It was different in style, yet the same in spirit.
Visually, the cast and audience blended right in with each other. Drag and bio-queens all around! Of course, half the fun of seeing a Rocky Horror show, film or stage play, is dressing up for it and seeing everyone else dressed up. We bought Mr. G a pair of sparkly hot pants at American Apparel a few hours before showtime, and the salesgirl knew exactly what we were doing... because half of East Lansing was also at American Apparel buying their Rocky Horror outfits. We saw many of the same people and articles of clothing at the show later.
I would also like to note that Riffraff was wearing Mr. G's boots. Bitch.
Playing dress-up is just as fun now as it was in kindergarten. You know it's true.
If you're crafty like Mrs. Waxx, you can even afford to buy designer shoes if you make your clothes out of plastic tablecloths. True story.
Happy adult playtime!