The Boss

Diana Ross

Because I need this today.

Sometime about 1981 a young impressionable homosexual of somewhere near 18 years of age (maybe not quite due to a really good fake ID) excitedly awaited his first drag show at his local gay discotheque. He was sitting on the floor laughing with several new gay friends and sipping cheap draft beer. The bright lights shimmered off of the sparkly fabric of the backdrop as the Emcee announced the opening act.

Carolyn Sue Wilson took the stage in her best Diana Ross drag. As she expertly  lypsynced this very tune, that young impressionable homosexual had found his home amoungst friends. He was no longer afraid and alone. He was part of.

Drag queens did that for us back then. Hell, they still do that for us outcasts today. Drag, at least for me, has always been inclusive. Drag is beautiful. Drag is accepting. Drag is outrageous. Drag is fun. Drag spreads love. Drag exudes acceptance.

That old gay dance club was a haven for this young impressionable homosexual. The memories of that club have always brought me comfort. That club helped me to realize I was inherently good. I was part of humanity and not some freak to be thrown away for no good.

I made many friends at that club. Many of those friends faded away.  Many died from the terrible plague we shared in the 1980s. Several of them are still with me to this day. Lifelong friends whom I love dearly.

Wherever Carolyn Sue Wilson is today, I dedicate this post to her. Thank you Carolyn, you always made me feel part of. You always shared a smile and gave this young homosexual the love and acceptance he needed. You girl -were and still are- The Boss.

Carolyn Sue Wilson
Miss Gay Roanoke 1975

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You are beautiful

So am I.

Make Your Own Kind of Music featuring Mama Cass

I know I’ve featured it before. However this song, and especially this mix, is always worth a reblog. I ran into it today and it just makes me feel good.

Go ahead, hit play and tap a toe or two…

I first heard this mix on a dance floor at a mid 1990’s circuit party in Los Angeles. I’ve since taken a twirl on many a dance floor to this favorite mix from San Francisco to the outside pool deck dance floor under the stars on an all gay cruise in the Caribbean and anywhere I heard it in between.

Weekend Jam

While sitting with the family (mom, the better half, two nieces and mom-n-dad in law) tonight having dinner at our favorite local Jewish Deli, a familiar tune was heard in the background music as we talked and laughed. One of my favorite summer tunes from 1977.

I hit puberty sometime right about when this song was released and I remember singing it and thinking of whichever boy crush I was having at the specific moment I was singing it. I never actually imagined that I could be with a boy, I just wanted to be with one. It was 1977 after all, and in a small southern town.

I think I’ll Listen to this one all weekend. Rita Coolidge, you knocked this one out of the park.

Higher & Higher

When I Think of You

You go Janet!

It was another of my regular Saturday nights out at the local gay disco in 1986, a disco called The Park. That cute guy I had met last weekend was out with me. His name you ask? Well like most really cute one, two or three weekend stands from that era of my life his name escapes me. However he was hot, or at least my memory says he was. One thing I do know for sure is that he was just slightly taller than I, he had dark hair and he could dance.

The mix of familiar pulsing music had us sweaty from a seemingly endless twirl on the dance floor. We took a break and stood in line to grab a couple cold draft Budweisers (it was the 80’s after all) when the pulse of music paused and the first few percussion beats of this new tune followed by those now familiar twinkle notes enveloped us. He screamed in his best queen for that moment voice “Oh my god, we have to get back out there! It’s Janet’s new song!” And the beers were forgotten as we lost ourselves back out on that dance floor to what would become one of may favorite all time Janet tracks.

What happened to that cute guy I’ll never know, but when I hear this tune I think of him…and when I think of him I smile.

Guilty of being brown

Careful, my soapbox is out and I’m standing on it.

So it appears that our US government has started denying US citizens with Hispanic names who live near the border renewal of their already existing US passports.

Apparently claiming that their US birth certificates are forged.

Why haven’t they denied white people with European names passport renewals in that same region because they too might have a forged birth certificate? Because these white people aren’t brown.

Why the FUCK do I have to write this post in 2018? Why the fuck???

Read about it HERE, it’s really happening.

So what, or who, is next? Deny my white Anglo Saxon ass who has an Irish surname a passport renewal because I don’t fuck the opposite sex? Deny someone else who might have a Jewish surname a passport renewal? What, you don’t think it could happen?

Well you had better the fuck think again.

Unless you are a white affluent conservative “chr*stian” republicass, there is a target on your back and they are coming for you. Yes unless you are all five of those you have a target on your back too, and you will pay. Oh and  “chr*stian” is misspelled, lower case and has quotes around it because in this day and time it’s simply a necessary label and no longer a moral quality. Yes I did just say that.

What can any of us do?

We can speak (while we still can) we can vote (while we still can) we can protest, talk, discuss, support, call, march, write, work, engage, relate, and most of all we must let this idiotic amoral leadership bind us together to a common cause of greater good.

I’ve had my rant. Fear, hate and anger only create more fear, hate and anger. Love, understanding and inspiration are the way to a higher level. May the Youngbloods’ 1967 classic Get Together lift us.

La Grange

This Beard, this certain Fearsome Beard, made the commitment to his soul last week to search for inspiration, search for beauty, search for passion and search for his own talent. He committed to try. To try to not only seek and to find but to enact. Trial through action to take himself to a higher level.

The next step has been taken, if only one foot has left the ground. With many steps ahead may my success exceed even my wildest dreams.

Beauty, passion, inspiration lie everywhere. All we must do is appreciate, accept and live. Live to the fullest.

Damn, ain’t ZZ Top just great? Damn great.

The next level

It is time.

It’s time I stepped up and took my career, my interests, my motivation and my life to the next level.

I’ve been busy. I’ve been stuck. I’ve done a lot. I’ve not done enough.

Therefore I look. I look for inspiration. I seek inspirational things.

Tonight I start with music. Who is my favorite? What music moves me? Which will elnlighten me, inspire me, uplift me and move me?

Led Zeppelin.

Amazing.

Choose your favorite

Three recordings of the same tune. Which one is your favorite?

The original:

Probably the most well known:

The most intense cover:

Although the Soft Cell cover holds a special place in my heart and will always be a big part of my early adulthood story, the original Gloria Jones version is my favorite.

Fearsome? I caught  him bobbing up and down to Marilyn Manson. I guess you can say between us we like all three.

Cakes

Cakes by Caswell

Warning:  NSFW and a bit racy for this here Fearsome blog thingy but we just couldn’t help hitting “copy, paste & post”.

…of corse it’s Not Safe For Work, it’s Caswell…