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CommuniKate

Archive for October, 2009

Sit on My Lapse

Tuesday, October 27th, 2009

When people wonder to me about what I’ll do without George Bush, I tell them that I’ll always have the Pope. And of course, the Cheneys who are keeping America safe, but not from themselves. I could do a whole new ninety minute Pope show if it weren’t so annoying to my never or now non-Catholic friends. We lapsed Catholics find ourselves endlessly interesting, but it is a special ring of hell for listeners.

From his dubious just-following holy orders deep past, to his more recent past as Czar of the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith, under his old boss Pope John Paul II, who is beginning to look as benign as Mr. Magoo, Pope Benedict XVI’s highlight reel of his four years pontificating is a doozy.

Like a sandcastle basilica facing an incoming tide, the RCC is facing a sea of secularism, and the Pope is using his mitered shovel to dig a futile moat. Since attendance at confession is down, big time, he upgraded sins for the modern era: drug dealing, corporate greed, child abuse. He incentivized confession by bringing back indulgences. Think double coupon days. He got rid of Limbo, just when I was getting over the loss of Pluto. He went to Africa and recklessly said that condoms have nothing to do with stopping the spread AIDS.

The Pope brought back the Tridentine face to-the-wall Latin mass. The mass looks like a time-out-corner punishment in kindergarten. He said protecting heterosexuality from the onslaught of homosexuality is as important as protecting the rainforests from destruction, making LGBT the clearcutters in the virgin forest of heterosexuality. First he tried to root gay men out of seminaries and lately he has been rooting out American nuns, for the sin of liberalism and tirelessly running the church’s charities, hospitals, schools and cleaning up the altar after the mass. I have made our apartment a safe house on the underground railway for runaway nuns. Tell your friends. Password: Song of Bernadette.

And fall membership drives are no longer just the province of Public Radio. In a bid to boost his numbers, and annex the Divineland, the Pope preemptively cancelled the 450 year old split with Henry VIII’s old Anglican Church and welcomed them, individually, by parish or by diocese into the healing vortex of the RCC after just a wee bit of counseling in the sweat lodge. More hot rocks! He is one Spiritual Warrior.

Acquisition details are still being worked out with uh, no one, certainly not the middling Archbishop of Canterbury and not so much with Episcopalians, that gay-bishop ordaining American League branch of the Anglican Church. Married Anglican priests with the impeccable het credentials of the wife and kids are welcomed. In your dreams is it the beginning of married priests. All reactionary, angry, misogynistic, homophobic Anglicans are also welcome.

Meanwhile in upstate New York, my two brothers and their wives have been trying to keep their parish churches open. One brother from a small rural church first participated in prayerful sit-ins to forestall the closure and then occupied the church after the bishop ordered it closed. He went with his parish committee to Rome to plead their case. The church was shuttered. My other brother was in a liberal urban parish that welcomed the LGBT community, performed gay weddings and long participated in local anti-poverty and anti-war movements. He and his wife called their parish “The St. James Barely Catholic Church”. The church was one of the first closed.

As a lesbian I have very little tolerance for the Catholic Church. It has less for me. My Hindu girlfriend, with the cool belief in reincarnation and many-armed deities, urges me to have more respect for the Catholic Church. After this latest move by the Pope and the church’s usual denial of what is really going on in the back room, I have less respect for the church, but greater admiration for my brothers, their wives and all those who have struggled to keep their church open to all who practice loving spirituality in a secular world.

Happy Birthday Sister

Wednesday, October 21st, 2009

Today is my sister’s birthday! I have two older brothers and a younger brother, and when I was young I begged my mother for a sister, or a dog. I got a sister. My sister begged my mother for a sister or a dog. She got a crazy beagle named Saint Louie Marie de Montfort, patron saint of something, little sisters maybe.

This morning I called her and did one of my hilarious [to me] birthday rap songs. She listened and then busted me as only a little sister can. “You’ve been on the road for weeks. I have to read your website to know where you are. Where are you?”

So, dear sister[s] and brothers, a quick recap.

After my PTown summer season where I get to ride my bike to work at the Crown and Anchor every night, it was back to New York and bye bye bike, hello airplanes. First stop was San Fransisters, CA for a show across the bay at the Montclair Women’s Cultural Arts Club. Owned and run by Barbara Price, the club is a multi-purpose showcase. And it was like old homo week – I saw singer/songwriter Margie Adam, famed photographer Irene Young, and backstage maven Connie Lane.

After a great lunch at Poggio Tratorio in Sausalito with gals who bid on me at the NCLR auction [try the thin crust pizza], I got a ride with more wonderful NCLR volunteers to Sacramento for a show at the renovated Crest Theater. You’ve got to see the neon marquee! Sacramento is the epi-center of the budget Conan the Republican madness, so they were all ready to laugh.

From Sacto I flew to Long Beach CA, home of Billie Jean King, and performed in the beautiful Center Theater, where we had taped my 25th anniversary special. After the show, my pal Julie Goldman, a transplanted New York lesbo comic and star of The Big Gay Sketch Comedy Show, gave me a ride to my old friend Leslie Belzberg’s house. We laughed all the way. Leslie is doing a great job co-chairing the OutFest Board and my goddaughter Sophie is now officially as tall as I am.

The next weekend brought me to one of the longest running, all volunteer, community performance clubs in the country – The Ark in Ann Arbor, MI. The state of MI is hurting with job loss and foreclosures and everyone is feeling it. They needed the laughs. I got my usual ride to and from Detroit with my favorite scientific researcher, Carol Mousigan, who explained to me how they were containing a MI tree blight. I couldn’t have been happier.

I left Detroit and flew to Albuquerque – it was the balloon festival but it was too windy, so I didn’t even seen that Jiffy Pop looking balloon without Falcon in it – where I was picked up by Melissa Howden, a good friend from Holly Near and Redwood Record days. We yacked and drove up to gorgeous Taos for a show at the second annual Festival of Change held on the grounds of KTAO radio, a solar powered community radio and heart of the progressive community. Before driving back to Albuquerque, Melissa was a great guide through the Taos pueblo. And she’s a great cook.

After a few days home to see my gal pal, do laundry and pay bills, I flew to Orlando, FL for one of my favorite conferences – the Out and Equal conference. I emceed their big Outie Awards dinner for corporations and municipal organizations that bring LGBT diversity into the workplace. It is always inspirational, but especially this year when Hillary Clinton addressed the dinner via impeccable satellite [oh those Disney people, they have everything] on behalf of the LGBT employee relations group at the State Department that had won its first Outie.

From the muggy 92 degrees of FL, I flew to DC for the absolutely glorious Equality March. I met my galpal and we saw old friends and then marched with at least 200,000 LGBTs [more if you double up the bi-sexuals] and our allies to the Capitol. It was young and feisty and very exciting. Organized by brilliant young queers mastering the new social media, the crowds showed up and I’m still cheered by what I saw of the next generation. I got to introduce my girlfriend and she gave a kickass speech you can see on YouTube.

After DC I flew to Ptown for the 25th Annual Women’s Week and a nor’easter. Four days, five shows, three book signings, two showcases, one touch football game, one performer brunch, one literary panel, one casino night, several parties and several inches of rain later, I am back in NYC for a few days. And a nap.

Happy Birthday, Mary Harmonica. You’re my favorite sister.