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A Small Recounting, Followed by Brief Notes on Drag

I have this policy of always saying “yes.”

Richard, would you mind helping me out with my mid-term paper?

Yes.

Richard, would you mind lending me your truck next week so I can move back in with my mother?

Yes, indeed.

Richard, would you mind volunteering for a massive literary festival the same weekend you’re supposed to be shuttling visiting artists around town and loading in your own show, which opens in less than a week?

What part of “Yes” didn’t you understand?

Good lord. So, the past three days have been a big fat blur–not a waste, now, just a blur. In the end, I got to see some fan-TAS-tic dance, and had a fun time with quite a few folks of the lesbian persuasion at last night’s King of Fools party.

[Related note for further reflection: as far as costumes go, drag queens have it far easier than drag kings. Female drag is all about glamour and wigs and makeup and stuff–masking, essentially. Male drag, on the other hand…well, it’s hard to even conceive as drag because it’s presumed to be so “natural.” If being masculine is the opposite of being glamorous and “artificial,” then drag kings have the cards stacked against ’em. All they’ve got to work with is a vat of hair gel and a fake beard… But their music is so much better–hello? when’s the last time you saw a drag queen perform to Devo?–I guess it doesn’t really matter…]