Lately we’ve spent a lot of time talking and thinking about
the circuit, and especially about the non-profit events.
What’s the point and all that. How it’s not only about the
monies raised, or the money spent, but what else happens
apart from the money. What Josh said about community and
friendship.
We hadn’t been to Philly
before – too close to New York – and never to Blueball
because – too cold in January. So now Blueball’s in May,
combined with Equality Forum, the largest annual GLBT civil
rights forum, and Mom wants to meet us there, so we take the
train down – seventy minutes from Manhattan without the
stress of airport security – and check into the host hotel,
Loews Philadelphia, built in 1932, where we draw a corner
room with splendid views of William Penn atop City Hall as
well as the Kimmel Center – and where, at sunset, the light
shimmers off Helmut Jahn’s ersatz Chrysler towers, and
Philly spreads out below us, as illuminated as LA.
What? This is Philly?
What were we expecting? We walk through the Gayborhood, and
into Washington Square, where we eat at Washington Square,
one of Steven Starr’s restaurants, he of Morimoto/Buddakan
fame, and the garden is buzzing with pretty young things,
which is our first clue to one of the most important aspects
of Philly today: PHILLY IS YOUNG.
And furthermore, Philly is
honest. We wander out of the restaurant in an alcohol haze,
one of us, anyway, and into the calm of Society Hill’s
cobblestoned streets and down into Old City – where I
realize I left my sunglasses at the restaurant. “What kind
were they?” asks the hostess when we call back. “Prada,”
Robert says – and she says, “All right, fine, we’ll hold
them for you.” Now really, would that happen in New York?
Or would I run into my waiter an hour later werking my
Pradas?
Say what you will about
Blueball having January all to itself, there’s a lot more to
be said for waking up on a May Saturday with the sky so blue
and the temperature hovering near eighty. We brunch outside
at Rouge on Rittenhouse Square, where the art students style
outfits with such attitude, it almost seens we’re in le
Marais. There’s a street festival in the Square and lots of
boyz lurking about, in couples, taking photos. Coffee at La
Colombe (supplier to Jean-Georges), and then back to the
Kimmel where we wander in – and get awestruck. This is some
serious performing arts center. Rafael Vinoly’s gift to
Center City, the Kimmel encompasses an entire city block,
with two concert halls completely encased in a glass
ribcage. A combination of the Getty Center’s agora-like
openness mixed with the Gare de Lyon. We have to see the
hall – so we buy two tickets for the matinee performance and
ten minutes later, we’re sitting in a box above the
orchestra onstage for: Peter Nero’s Broadway Showstoppers.
EEK and ACK. But they open with the overture to Gypsy – and
we make it until intermission, when the woman next to us
turns and says, “So, how does it compare to New York?”
Well, that’s the thing
about Philly. It doesn’t have to be compared – least of all
to New York. The Community Center, for example, on Elton’s
Way (a street renamed for Elton John) used to be the
Engineers’ Club. Lovely structure. It’s one of the
beneficiaries of Blueball. Further down the street, there’s
a sweet little restaurant called Mercato. Delicious grilled
artichoke a la Romana. Our waiter used to live in New York
– left it for Philly. Loves Philly, no apologies.
Second lesson about
Philly: friendly. Young and friendly. Very friendly.
Across from Independence Hall, a uniformed attendant offers
to take our photo next to the historical marker
commemorating the first gay and lesbian civil rights
demonstrations – in 1965, four years before Stonewall. And
here we thought Gay Pride was all about Judy’s demise.
So Main Event is up
ahead. Tracy Young at the Electric Factory. We cab over at
one a.m. There’s a little line outside and inside, there’s
a nice crowd. Tracy’s werking “Sorry” as we make it up to
the mezzanine where everyone is -- YOUNG AND FRIENDLY. Very
young. As in 21-25, which is how much it costs to get in if
that’s your age: $21-$25. Now here’s a door policy which
works.
And in some ways, the
whole night is kinda like those nights. When you were
twenty-something. When it doesn’t matter that you’re
dancing on asphalt, which could be a parking lot by day, and
the decorations are little more than scrims with video
screensavers, and the lights are – well, lights whirling
around above you, and every so often you might notice the
Cirque de Soleil acrobats dangling from the ceiling, or
maybe not, because maybe that’s when you were really busting
that Madonna move you’d been working on all day in front of
your closet mirror, so maybe you didn’t notice the Cirque de
Soleil performer who nearly plows into Tracy’s soundboard.
Joe Caro’s not having it.
He’s out the door by three. We don’t see Nurse. And even
though the kids are still having fun, it’s when the upstairs
bars close down that we think, Hmm, maybe a cab – but this
is Philly and cabs aren’t abundant and so, we take a breath
without judgment and start hoofing it back to the hotel.
It’s not that far. We’re in our room by four.
So. Hmm. Well, that was
that. The next day is Sunday – and there’s the brunch atop
the Loews on the 33rd floor – which we’re
attending because Mom wants to, because she wants to do
something for the Sapphire Fund. And it’s nice to be high
in the sky, on another beautiful sunny day. And to hear the
spokespeople for the three beneficiaries of Blueball speak
with passion about their work at the Community Center and
the Attic Youth Center and the Mazzoni Center – and to
realize yet again how important these non-profit circuit
events are for the annual budgets of these local
organizations which work to help our community. So many of
us on the circuit have so many safety nets – and so many in
our community do not, and the need is so great for groups
such as the Attic Center which work with LGBT youth at
risk. Attendance may be down at many circuit events – but
more than ever, our local LGBT communities need the
circuit’s support.
Out into the sunshine –
and to Equality Forum’s all-day Sunday Out! Street Festival
in Old City – where Market Street from Fifth to the river is
taken over by Philly’s gay youth. This is Folsom Street.
minus the leather and beards. These kids are peachy-cream
complexioned with what we’ve come to admire as “Philly
butt.” Love that Philly butt. Maybe it’s the cheesesteaks,
maybe not, but it’s rounded and delicious, and not from
hours at the gym. Something natural about it: We’ll have
one order of Philly butt to go, please.
Young and friendly, that’s
the Philly we encounter, and maybe that’s what Blueball
knows about the future: focus on the locals, focus on the
youth. And tolerant, very tolerant, with time on their
hands. We’re walking through the Gayborhood, coffeeing at
the Village -- when who should we spot across the street but
Joe Caro. And that’s our parting shot of Philly: Joe Caro
teaching his Asian gang how to deep-throat a triple-scoop
pistachio ice cream cone. Better than a cheesesteak by
far.