I HEART The 80s

Saturday night I’m doing a set at another one of those burlesque shows—you know the ones. Although they are cray, I’m actually getting paid this time, and I’m not turnin’ down cash in these trying times. The producer/lead performer has requested that I adjust my set to fit with the theme of the show—the 1980s. Although I’m a true fuckin’ artist and I’m sensitive about my shit (a la Erykah Badu circa Call Tyrone), I like a good challenge. I’m thinking of it as more of an assignment—and I’m kinda struggling. So, let’s get a study group going, guys. Here’s what I’ve got so far:

80s-centric Bits/Concepts:

• The 1980s as a time of low standards (tv and commercials):

Mr. Wizard’s World:Who were those neighborhood kids who would help him with his experiments?? If that show was on today, he’d be on To Catch a Predator. Chris Hansen would burst in the damn kitchen and get some answers.

Does that count as inappropriate touching?

Folger’s coffee commercials: That coffee was fucking FAMOUS. Remember the jingle? The best part of waking up is Folger’s in your cup.

Um, I don’t know about you, but if the best part of waking up is a cup of coffee, you might want to go back to bed! Maybe get quiet, assess your goals, take some time for reflection. I know you're dealing with trickle-down economics, but that's no reason to stop having dreams.

• But it was a great time to be black in the late 1980s!!! The Cosby Show and A Different World—those shows made me want to be a blacktress. You had these talented folks, many of whom were darker than a paper bag, just livin' life the way people of all colors do. There was a place for me….til I actually got old enough to start pursuing it. By the mid-90s, my only option was Homeboys in Outer Space.

The title pretty much says it all. Two black men who didn’t have any bargaining chips played astronauts on a stranded spaceship. The computer that ran the ship was a female voice named….Loquatia.

#whyblackpeoplecan’thavenicethings

• It was easy to show your affection in the 80s. If you wanted to show you were into someone, all you needed was: a MIX TAPE. That shit was real. None of this clickin’-and-draggin’ foolery. You had to find the track, sync that shit up, think about the flow from one to the other. And if you were a keeper, you definitely rewound the blank tape to create as seamless a transition as possible from one song to the other.

• Loved shows with absentee dads, though. I felt a lot of connection to the female protagonists:

Out of This World: Dad was a fucking alien!

My Two Dads: I was jealous of that bitch. Her eyebrows were completely unmanageable and she had two dudes willing to raise her. I didn't get the problem--that judge should have left them alone.


Okay, guys, let’s put our heads together. Leave a comment (and don’t steal my bits). What else can we add to the list????

My New Daddy

So, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this yet, but there’s a new massa in charge of the magazine where I work. This means that I have to pretty much make a new impression and re-prove myself to this person who doesn’t know my worth as a woman of color and a writer. He came on about a month ago, but the old editor-in-chief was still around, showing him the ropes and getting him acclimated. It was a really confusing time, as I wasn’t sure who to direct my queries to or who was actually in charge—I felt like I was on an episode of “My Two Dads.”

What was with that plush car in their apartment? Such a weird situation. IT'S CALLED DNA TESTING, PEOPLE!


Last week was new massa’s first week solo, and we’re all in a tizzy, as we work to bring him up to speed, explain our roles, and keep everything chugging along and meeting deadlines. He and I went to the watercolor event on Friday night, which I was nervous about—I wanted him to know I was an asset to the staff, but also a cool person, because half the time, the difference between a pink slip and a paycheck comes down to who is liked the most. It was also kinda weird, because it was sort of a social event, but I was clearly with my superior—what could we talk about for four hours without veering into non-professional conversation? What if I accidentally revealed the fact that I hate my job sometimes? EEP!!

Well, fortunately for us all, New Massa is great. Imagine Ian McKellan with a dash of Michael Showalter.
I'm sorry, I'd add a pic of Michael Showalter, but I'm too obsessed with Ian McKellan and this apple to place anything next to it that could detract from its amazingness.


Needless to say, we’re getting along swimmingly.

He’s a wonderful gay man with a hot bi-racial live-in bf, and he curses a lot and we crack each other up. When I told him I was nervous about the event and hoped I wouldn’t have to speak, he said he didn’t know what to say, either. I said, “No, I’m the Michelle to your Barack. You take it away, I’ll be in the background with the arms.” He LOL’d like a little LOLcat, and I knew we’d be forever together.

Throughout the event, we chatted about the art, and mix and mingled like a total power couple. I was prompted to sing his praises in blog form because when I went into his office a few minutes ago to share a silly submission (you know the artists like to share their hot messes), he replies with, “Oh, I’m glad you came in, I wanted to tell you a story.”

This story was about a tranny artist he knows who was the son of a preacher, and his father got the whole church to raise money for his kid’s sex change.

Um, can I hang out with my boss every day and be best friends?

Although he’s super cool, I can tell he’s not one to mess around, like most power gays I know. Old Massa had been here 31 years, so he was really chill. He left at 2:30pm, and didn’t stress you as long as your work got done. This was much appreciated, as I aim to take as much time as I need to pursue my (bl)ac(k)ting career. I may have to put the early departures and long lunches on hold for a bit, as New Massa gets comfortable and stops freaking out—but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make if it means we get to talk about trannies in the workplace.