Last night was a drag

OK, I admit it. I miss drag queens.

When we lived in the San Francisco Bay Area, it wasn’t all that uncommon to see a bevy of highly decorated and accessorized men flitting about in heels that vicariously made my back hurt. They’d be in parades and protests and festivals. Sister Boom Boom was a local celebrity for years and even ran for Mayor of San Francisco once, garnering nearly 25,000 votes and inspiring the “Sister Boom Boom Law” which now requires all political candidates in the City By the Bay to run using their legal name.

Here in the rural boonies of the great Pacific Northwest, we don’t get much opportunity for drag queens. The closest we get – and I say this with great love and respect – is my beloved llama buddy, Rojo, who proudly gussies up in garlands and ankle brackets and feathery head-dresses to celebrate each season with admirable enthusiasm. I had no idea I missed the human version of cross-dressing joviality until last night when we went to go see Kathy Griffin, live and in person.

Kathy is a comedian. Quite a hysterical one if you enjoy her brand of humor; rather bawdy and offensive if you don’t. She is just enough of a celebrity to get to participate in red carpets events, award shows, talk shows, and spend her birthday yakking with Cher. But she is low enough on the totem pole that most celebrities won’t return her calls and she is still kicking herself for bringing Cher a foil-wrapped slice of cake as though she were going to a BBQ. Kathy’s act is largely a dishing of celebrity dirt, an inside-and-behind-the-scenes peek into the wackiness of Hollywood. She’s like a living, breathing cross between People magazine and the National Enquirer. And therefore I love her. And so do, it turns out, a whole lotta gay men and women.

If there were any doubt, allow me to assure you that the gay community in Portland is alive and thriving and out on the town on a Wednesday night. There was something rather refreshing and familiar and fun about spending my evening intermingling with folks who don’t seem to publicly gather much in my little redneck town. And then when I spotted the half-dozen drag queen nuns, all a-fluff in kabuki make-up, feather boas, and sequins, I bounced in my seat and wanted to wrap my arms around the merry, wacky, come-as-you-wanna be city of Portland.

Last night’s nuns were part of the Portland Chapter of the international order of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. They are a charity whose charge is to “…reach out to our community through charitable acts, community outreach, and education; doing so, in a fashion that promulgates universal joy.” Universal joy, indeed! Prior to the show, the Sisters strutted around the audience, dancing, clapping, feathering, and thoroughly entertaining. Their unabashed sense of fun and happy, their inhibitions locked behind thick make-up, their desire to bring people into their party without being pushy about it…it all just made me smile a big goofy grin and thank God I live in a place and time where good works can come in all sorts of flavors.