Boys in the Band Redux

I know I've posted this clip from the movie "The Boys in the Band" before but I have the urge to post it again.  

I remember the first time I saw this movie.  It was in 1970.  I saw it with Bill at the Goldman Theater in center city Philadelphia.  Most of you reading this blog posting either weren't alive at this time or if you were alive, weren't aware of the gay sub culture.  Oh but we (Bill and I and our friends) were.  

In 1970 Bill and I had been together for six years.  We went to the Westbury which was gay bar on the corner of 15th and Spruce Streets in Philadelphia almost every Saturday night.  We usually met up with our coterie of gay friends Phil, Ron (yes, another "Ron"), Ed and others.  

Me, my friend Ron H. and Phil D - 1965 - ready to "hit the bars" on a Saturday night - notice we dress up - my friend Ron was the "Harold" of our group - sad to say he is also gone now

Back in the 70's the gay subculture was very "sub", believe me.  The Westbury bar and other gay bars  were subject to periodic raids.  Remember this film (and play) was made before the Stonewall Riots that said "Enough!"  

Bill and I were hesitant to see this film although we wanted to see it very bad.  Looking back on our reasons for being reluctant to see this film seems silly now but at that time we were actually afraid that the police would raid the whole theater and arrest us all.  And of course back in Those Days when a gay man was arrested they always put it in the newspaper so your employer would discover your "perversion" and promptly fire  you from your job.  Oh yes, those things happened before Stonewall, believe me.  

The Goldman theater was right across the street form the bank where I worked.  Bill worked for RCA (remember that company?)  Even though we were taking a risk we decided to see the movie anyway.  I remember walking into the theater with butterflies in my stomach.

As we walked down the sumptuously carpeted theater aisles we tentatively looked around to see if there was anyone else we knew in the theater.  Much to our surprise there appeared to be a greater number of straight people (men and women couples) in the theater.  Of course there were the Usual Suspects, gay male couples dressed for the occasion.  Back in those days gay men dressed up to go out. 

We didn't see any police.  We seated ourselves and waited for the theater lights to go down.  

In a short time the lights went down and the movie started.  "This is it!" we thought.  You know I can't remember the theme music of "The Boys in the Band" but I do remember the opening scene of Emory (Cliff Gorman) swishing walking down the New York street with his two pink poodles.  Well, no one in our circle of gay friends had pink poodles but we did have swishy friends.  As a matter of fact, our biggest revelation of the whole movie was just how accurate it was in the depiction of the various gay characters.  It was mind blowing (no pun intended).  

We settled down and watched this movie about all the different characterizations of gay men and their degrees of self-hate, doubt, and general joie de vivre.  I do not exaggerate, I cannot tell you how liberated we felt watching a movie about our "friends."  We knew gay men like those up on the screen!  We WERE those gay men.  Yes, we even used the now discarded jargon of "numbers" (referring to "tricks") and "Mary", which was an affectionate term for friends.  Can you believe it? 

My friends Ed, me and Ron H. at my 24th birthday dinner at our Pennsauken, NJ apartment - 1964

It goes without saying we were enthralled watching the whole movie which was a metaphor for what gay life was like for us and our friends pre-Stonewall.  

Alas, those days are gone now as is most of the cast of this movie.  Sadly all of the gay actors have died of AIDS related causes.  Only the straight actors (Peter White "Alan" and Laurence Luckenbill "Hank") are alive today.  But this movie, a ground breaking event in the evolution of gay awareness in the main societal culture of this country, lives on.  

Every now and then I need my "Boys in the Band" fix.  There is absolutely no movie entrance that surpasses Harold's Entrance.  None.  

This blog posting is for those of you who remember what it was like BS (before Stonewall). It was a whole different world folks.

We have progressed but we still have a long way to go.  Back in 197 when Bill and I saw this movie the very idea that we could ever get legally married never entered our mind.  After watching this clip I wonder what Harold would have to say.

My friend Ron, me and Phil on River Drive in Philadelphia for a "Sunday Afternoon Cruise" - 1965

Respect Part 2

One aspect in my previous post on respect that I didn't go into deeply enough was how, as a gay man, respect is especially important to me.  We need to drill down on this.

Me (far right) with my father and two younger brothers - I always wanted him to like me - obviously he never did even at this young age even though I yearned for his attention - 1948 - his favorite was my younger brother John to the far left - my middle brother Isaac also lacked attention from our father - the body language says it all

Growing up I was constantly belittled by my father.  As an adult I came to realize that he really didn't want children.  My brothers and I were a hinderance to him.  Since I was the oldest, I received the brunt of his disdain.  

Me (on left) during my self-hating years when I was nothing - a too tall, skinny kid with a too big nose and a cauliflower ear which my father never let me forget

Now of course I realize that many other people like me had similar childhoods, some worse.  But I'm talking about myself here and why I am the way I am.  

When you're growing up and all you hear is that you're "stupid", "can't do anything", have a big nose ("beak" was his favorite name for me) and a cauliflower ear; one comes to believe that.  

It is interesting to look at my grade school report cards now and see that I did well in all areas except self confidence.  I almost always received a "U" for lack of self confidence.

Not until I left home at 18 years of age and joined the Army did I come to slowly realize that I wasn't quite the "stupid, can't do anything, big nosed misfit with a cauliflower ear."  Oh sure, when I was in Army Basic Training, that wasn't a picnic either.  My name then was "stupid, fucking trainee" but I wasn't the only one.  Everyone was a  "stupid, fucking trainee." This was different, I had company.  

Stonewall Inn - Greenwich Village - 1969

Gradually I began to gain self-confidence when I realized that I wasn't as bad as I was led to believe the first 18 years of my life.  In fact, in some areas I was actually GOOD.  

The "brave" policemen arresting on of those "criminals" a gay guy who was at the Stonewall Bar

Thinking back to those days 53 years ago in January of 1960, I remember my biggest fear was someone making fun of my nose.  Much to my surprise, no one did.  Really, I was very surprised. Hey, maybe I wasn't ugly. 

"How about some respect here cops?"

Of course my big shame in those days was knowing that I was a homosexual (the old timey term back in the pre-Stonewall days for gays).  I definitely felt inferior because of that unalterable fact.  I was ashamed and fearful that anyone would find out.  If they did then no one would respect me.  I would be an outcast, inferior, garbage.

"What is the matter with those fags?"

As time went on during my enlistment in the Army and I was promoted over many of my fellow soldiers, even to assistant platoon sergeant and my own room, and even soldier of the month; I lost most of my inferiority complex that had been drummed into me.

Specialist Ronald W. Tipton

I always envied my peers who grew up in a household where they were valued, complimented and told "we're going to send you to college."  No, I was always told that I wasn't smart enough, good enough and for sure they wouldn't send me to college so I had better prepare myself for another line of work.  That's why I took the commercial course in high school instead of the academic course which all of my friends selected.  

Not only was I good enough for the academic course, because I was a homosexual I wasn't good enough to even associate with my heterosexual "normal" classmates.  A double whammy.  

Now let me stop here and put a qualifier lest anyone think I'm wallowering in self-pity.  Bill also had a rough childhood.  His father died in a drunk driving accident when he was only one year old.  He was raised by a physically abusive step-father.  My Mother's mother died in childbirth when my Mother wasn't quite two years old.  She neglected and physically abused during her childhood.  Many of us didn't get a good start in life but overcame a lot but still never quite get rid of the baggage that has residual effects.

1963 - The year I came out to the world and regained my self-respect

After staying in the closet for the first 21 years of my life I decided to come out when I was caught in bed with a married man (father of three small children) by my Mother.  I had had enough.  Accept me as I am or don't accept me at all.  I've written about that drama in previous blog posts but that was the turning point in my life.  In 1963, six full years before Stonewall, I decided to stop apologizing for who I was and live my life as I am, warts and all.  Either you like me or you don't, that's your choice.  

From that day on I refused to let anybody discount me as a human being whether it was because of my homosexuality or because someone just didn't like me because I refused to be controlled by them.  

I remember where I was when I first heard news of the Stonewall Riot.  I was at the Westbury Bar at 15th and Spruce Streets in Philadelphia, PA.  When all of us fags in the bar heard this story we of course were angry.  At the Westbury Bar we also went through our share of raids, especially around election time when the local politicos wanted to score easy points with the local homophobe voters.  "Hey, let's raid the fag bar.  That's easy pickins!"  Every year like clockwork the police would come in, the lights would flash on and ID's would be checked. Anyone who was under 21 years old was arrested and led out into the waiting paddy wagon outside along with the bartender who served him the drink.  This was all done very matter of fact, like the Nazi Germans leading the Urkrainian Jews to the ditches to be shot.  All expected and very routine.  The only difference was that the underage bar patron and bar tender were usually released the next day after spending the night in "the tank."  No one was shot, as long as you did what you were told.  

How refreshing it was then to learn that some New York queens decided they had enough and threw some bottles at the police when they tried to put them into the paddy wagons.  I know this sounds like an oxymoron, but I've known drag queens who have more balls than a dozen cops put together.  They just had enough that night.  Good for them and good for all the homos like me who also had enough.  You see folks, they had too much self-respect for themselves to put up with any more of this bullshit.  

So in my life I not only had to deal with an upbringing which was not positive but instead beat me down, I also had to deal with society treating me as an inferior.  I had two choices - to cower and accept other's verdict on me or to take control of my own life.  

Me (center bottom row) with friends who respected me - 1962

As I said before, those people who were fortunate enough to grow up in loving and encouraging households, and that includes my gay brothers and sisters - good for you.  But there are many of us who weren't that fortunate, straight and gay.  

So my friends, if I seem a little touchy (and I am) about the way I am treated by friends, relatives and co-workers, this is where I am coming from.  I wish I could get rid of the childhood baggage completely but I have never been able to accomplish that.  I wish that I could breeze through life, supremely confident in my appearance and abilities but I cannot because I always have that little seed of doubt.  

As I said before, many others have had my experience growing up, many worse.  Different people take different paths to deal with their "baggage."  Some resort to drugs or alcohol.  I don't. Some resort to striking out at others to compensate. No folks, I go through life, even with all my faults (and I have plenty I know), with a happy attitude which is my nature.  But once I am done wrong or treated badly, that person doesn't get a second chance.  Whether it be a public figure or an individual person.  I may forgive the bad behavior but I don't forget.  That is not in my nature.  

Me today with friend (straight) who respects me even though he knows I'm gay

I was brought down the first 18 years of my life and have been on too many occasions since but at this time of my life I have zero tolerance to accept that behavior from anyone.  

"Lady Marmalade" Venture Inn, Philadelphia, PA 1980

Just like those drag queens at Stonewall forty-four years ago who had enough and weren't going to step into that police paddy wagon just because they were gay, I don't accept being discounted.  I had enough.  I don't accept being taken for granted.  I had enough.  

I am a unique individual just like every one of you who is reading this blog.  Some of you may like me and some of you do not like me.  Those of you who like me, let's be friends.  Those who don't, then go away and don't bother trying to change me.  I am what I am and at this time of my life there is not much more fine tuning to be done.  What you see (and hear and read) is pretty much what you get with me.  If I criticize one of your favorite celebs like Beyonce who lip-synchs songs (and thus is lying to her fans), get over it.  It's my opinion.  If I write about myself in my blog (duh) and you think I write too much about myself...well this is my blog.  It's about me.  Deal with it.  If I bore you, go away.  If I interest you, stick around because I think I lead a pretty interesting life.  

So there is my spiel this morning folks from this damaged, imperfect, human being called "Ron."  I like myself and I hope you do too.