I have enjoyed Luke Macfarlane in other performances. I know nothing about Billy Eichner.
Billy Eichner has apparently tweeted his dissatisfaction about Bros opening weekend box office. It apparently wasn’t very good.
Reading what Eichner said was pretty offputting. There wasn’t any need for him to shoot his mouth off. I’d have much more respect if he’d taken the opening weekend under performance like a man and simply moved on.
Lets face it, this movie is going to have limited appeal. That being said, the box office may have improved over the Columbus Day Holiday weekend had Eichner not sounded like such a spoiled brat.
Now, I’m thinking I’ll wait for it to be on streaming services.
It may well be funny, the trailer has some moments that look promising, but I’m not sure that I can put up with catty board room scenes with a bunch of LGBT people sitting around sniping at each other. That is something that I’ve personally had way too much of.
From the trailer, this movie appears to be steeped in elitism. Not having seen the movie itself I could be wrong. But the trailer sure had that elite feel to it.
There are other movies that are gay romantic comedies with more appeal to the average gay man.
You know, the guy who worries if he’ll be able to pay his electric bill. The guy who uses his phone with the cracked screen for a year or so, because it still works, and he doesn’t have the cash to pony up $800 for a new one.
Movies like:
In & Out The Birdcage If Dad Only Knew 4th Man Out The 10 Year Plan
All of which are worth watching. The latter two have pretty relatable characters and tell a good story. Sure they’re not mainstream but they’re nice films.
The thing is, not everyone is elite, not everyone can live in a beautiful apartment in New York, not everyone gets to sit in an office arguing over inconsequential trivialities.
There are a lot of Gay and Bi men who do manual labor. They don’t live in high-rises sometimes not even in a single bedroom apartment. The have calluses on their hands, they’re pragmatic and don’t hang out every night in bars with a $25 cover charge.
Perhaps those same LGB people are a bit reticent to spend money at a theater to watch a bunch of elites bemoan their “horrible” lives. Maybe those Gay and Bi men are more content to buy a six pack, grab a good burger as a treat to themselves, and wait for Netflix to show the movie 6 months down the road.
Maybe, they don’t want to sit in a theater with a bunch of the LGBT community screeching and howling a a big screen. Maybe these guys have so little in common with the “normal” LGBT people that they’re uncomfortable in such a crowd.
Maybe from a personal worth perspective these guys would rather go home, shower, and sit on their couch in a clean pair of boxers with their feet up while they wonder if they’ll be able to put gas in their truck.
I can say this, after hearing Billy Eichner whine about homophobia and straight people not seeing his movie I’m less inclined to see it. That’s a pity too, because I could really use a good laugh.
Speaking of which maybe I’ll queue up If Dad Only Knew. There are some pretty funny scenes.
Mr Eichner, you really need to learn when it’s time to keep your mouth shut.
Armed protesters stand guard outside a drag show at Anderson Distillery & Grill in Roanoke, Texas. (Kelly Neidert)
Antifa is looking a LOT more like the Fascists than the “Enemy” they’re supposed to be worried about.
Anti Drag Shows for Kids protestors
Of the two groups which looks more like a paramilitary group?
Are guns only bad when they’re in the hands of conservative leaning people? Is the take away that ANTIFA is protecting decency, which is arguable at best?
Was it ANTIFA that attacked the Federal Building in Portland or not? Weren’t they the folks blinding officers and throwing fire bombs trying to kill folks assigned to protect the Federal Building?
Who was it that beat Andy Ngo damn near to death? Oddly it wasn’t normal law abiding folks. But apparently that’s to be swept under the rug.
This is all about a drag show for children in Texas.
I never thought I’d be writing a sentence that contained the words Drag Show and Children in it.
WTF?
I remember being in a gay bar late one night in Laguna Beach where a child came up to the 6’5” tall, muscular as all hell, ex military demolition specialist, doorman, asking for help.
The doorman scooped this frightened child up off the ground, walked into the bar told the bartender to stop selling booze, the Saturday Night Crowd made a path to the bar. The whole downstairs bar emptied out and this scary giant of a man, tended ever so gently to the child’s scrapes.
In his deep baritone he asked what had happened.
When he and several others nearby who were providing wet clean towels, who’d grabbed the first aid kit, and an unimpaired RN, heard;
“Daddy and Mommy are fighting bad”
The doorman very gently asked, “Can you tell me where they are?”
“We’re on vacation. The hotel is across the street. I came over here because it sounded happy.”
“Are they still fighting?”
“I guess so, they fight a lot.”
“Okay little one, I’ll go check on them.”
He and several other men went to the door. Over his shoulder he called to a bartender, “Get some juice for her, don’t sell any booze while she’s here, and call the police.”
There are a lot of things that made me proud of the community that night. The short list is this.
The men that followed the doorman out all knew how to handle themselves. They were either military, ex military, bikers or fighters of various stripes. All the men in the bar stopped drinking They all put their glasses on the upper Bar They changed the music to something happy but not blaring. The patrons adopted proper decorum and spoke quietly among themselves.
After 10 minutes, the doorman came back with bloodied knuckles, carrying a small boy who’d obviously been smacked around, followed by a dazed battered woman.
Without question the RN moved on to address the bruises and scrapes on the woman and little boy. The doorman, with easy familiarity grabbed a clean bar towel, filled it with ice from behind the bar and wrapped his right fist.
The little boy was watching the doorman closely, obviously curious about the towel and ice.
The doorman, smiled. He got up and made a smaller towel with a little bit of ice. He handed it to the little boy, “Hold this against your eye. It might hurt at first but the cold will make it feel better.”
The doorman rewrapped his fist and sat quietly watching the RN taking care of his patients. Eventually the RN got to the doorman’s scrapes & cuts.
The doorman tried to wave the RN away.
“Thad, let me do my job!”
The doorman sighed, “Okay, but I’m fine.”
The police arrived. They were obviously a little stunned. Usually, when they came into the bar it was rowdy and they were enforcing a noise complaint. Yet this time, the lights were on full and everyone was quiet and respectful.
The doorman, spoke briefly to them. A few minutes later an ambulance pulled up in front of the hotel.
Statements were taken and the woman and her children left with the police. Before they left, the children ran back to the table where the doorman was sitting and climbed onto him. They hugged him tight and he hugged them back with tears brimming.
“You’re going to be alright children. Take care of your mommy.”
Their mom said, “Thank you so much,” then collected her kids and left.
That is the gay community I remember. Yes, hated by many, but good men and women.
We at the time, were fighting for our equal place in society. We knew that equality would only come when we demonstrated in all other respects, except who we peopled our bed with, we were just like everyone else.
Drag shows are not the place for children. Gay bars are not the place for children. The LGB community knew that instinctively without question. The story above illustrates that simple fact.
What the fuck has happened to this community? Just because we were outliers then doesn’t mean we have to keep being outliers.
I know of no folks in the LGB community who would think for an instant that a Drag show should be attended by children. It’s adult entertainment for adults. You wouldn’t take children to a strip show. You wouldn’t take children to a bar with half naked go go boys dancing on the bar.
Hell, if you’re a responsible person you wouldn’t even show a movie with such depictions to children.
It’s not even about morality or puritanical religious squeamishness.
It’s about protecting a child’s innocence!
We all find our various kinks when we’re of age, when we’re ready for it, and when we’re old enough to handle it.
Let a child be a child, for God’s sake!
Then we have in Texas, a drag show with armed ANTIFA in black out clothing forming a perimeter. What the hell kind of message does that send?
What does a child think of that?
Especially after Uvalde and all the noise about AR-15s being dangerous. ”Only bad people carry AR-15s, run and hide if you see someone with one of those”.
Then 6 weeks later that same parent is saying, “come on in here don’t worry about the rifles.”
You’ve already got a confused child, then you subject them to bad drag.
If that doesn’t cause a fear of clowns and makeup, I’ll be surprised.
Pennywise from IT
It’s long past time for the LGB community to stand up. It’s time for us to put a stop to this because we’re uniquely in a position to do so. The trans activists have hitched their wagon to the LGB community and the community has allowed it.
So now it’s our responsibility. We allowed this mess to be made it’s on us to clean it up!
Are we willing to let everything we fought so hard to gain be corrupted and stripped away by the actions of a fringe group of trans activists?
Are we willing to be shamed back into the closet by 1% of the population who simply choose to hitch their wagon to ours?
Will we allow all that we’ve accomplished to be degraded back to things like; Gays can’t marry, can’t have jobs, can’t have places to live, sodomy laws, and all that we managed to fix so that we can be thought of as equal?
I for one refuse!
I like being LGB and being treated with respect and normalcy. I like being able to get my freak on without worry of someone ratting me out to the cops for immoral behavior.
This trans activist bullshit has got to stop.
There are things that Trans folks need to have addressed. But not everyone is Trans!
How dare Trans activists imply that if someone likes the same sex they’d be happier transitioning to the opposite sex. There are little boys and little girls right now who would probably grow up CIS and LGB and be quite happy about it.
Those children deserve to discover their preferences in their own time, in their own way. How many boys and girls will have that joy of discovery ripped away from them by people deciding for them?
Isn’t that the same thing the Trans activists are saying is so wrong, when they say things like a Doctor assigns sex at birth?
Where have all the heroes gone? I’m sure as hell not a hero but if I’m all there is, then I’ll do my best.
Not Thad. But they’re cut from the same cloth
Thad – where ever you are now. 40 some odd years ago, you taught a green young man being gay or bi didn’t make you less a man, as men we still had responsibilities to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. You taught me that gay or bi didn’t have to be my whole personality, it was just a part of who I was. You gave me a memory of decency and strength. I’m eternally grateful.
I’ve been a little blue the past few days. I’m not sure why that is.
On the other hand God knows there’s a lot that I could be blue about. Almost all the news is bad. I find myself waiting for the next new atrocity to come out of some country or our own government.
Yesterday was particularly tough. I wasn’t sure why, but the day seemed just harder than usual. To be fair, the day started out with a glorious sunrise. The smell of fresh brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen. The dog sniffing my face asking, “Are you awake yet?”
I scanned the headlines, pausing to read one of the many articles about the new preponderance of IRS agents. I smiled thinking about my Dad he’d be having a shit fit about it.
Dad really didn’t like the IRS, and apparently the feeling was mutual.
Then it hit me. It was the 30th anniversary of my Dad’s death.
Whoa! I thought I was doing the math wrong. I wasn’t.
I hadn’t really been paying attention to the number of years that had passed, but I wonder if some part of me was acknowledging the anniversary without bringing it to my conscious mind.
30 years ago, by this date it had been a rough couple of months. Little did I know at the time, but things were going to get a lot rougher before some semblance of “normal” would return.
In that moment 30 years ago, I had only what was immediately in front of me. A family that I barely knew telling me how they thought I should do things.
My younger Brother, (who was old enough to carry a gun in the DMZ in Korea and later Desert Storm, but couldn’t buy a beer,) who I was trying to protect at least from the most egregious of the “Helpful” suggestions? Commands? Demands?
My Dad had been through some rough times in the last few years of his life, he was trying to stand up a business doing something that he seemed to love. He’d left the state he grew up in, and moved in with his mother in her home state. I think his plan was to jump start the business and then purchase his own home in a, sort of charming, small town in The South.
I don’t know. He never shared his plans with me. I can say that Dad had reduced his possessions considerably and become a minimalist. Whether that was due to financial need or life choice I also don’t know.
Somewhere along the line, he’d discovered he had cancer and it was too far along for any effective treatment. Perhaps that was part of the drive toward minimalism on his part.
When he died, as the eldest Son, the responsibility for all the “after life” decisions fell to me.
My Brother had been raised by my Dad more so than I. It only seemed right that he should be calling the shots so I gave my Brother as much control as he wanted. I took on the things that were “too much,” given the circumstances, and the role of running interference with the family.
I’d like to think that Dad would have appreciated the arrangement. Especially when he understood my reasoning.
All of this flooded back crashing into my brain. Suddenly, I was reliving it in a way.
I felt terribly alone.
Many times over the past 30 years I’ve wished Dad was around. I’ve wished that I could chat with him, discuss politics, have a drink, go shooting, or get his take on trouble spots in my life. I’d have appreciated his wisdom even if I went my own way. While I wouldn’t have appreciated his knowing grin when going my own way blew up in my face, I’d like to have had the experience.
I suppose I could use a bit of a pep talk from Dad. Over the past 5 years or so, I’ve felt like I’m being kicked and beaten, then kicked again while I’m already on the ground. I’m having a very hard time getting up and wonder, “why bother” often enough that it worries me.
I’m losing the game, and have no more plays. I’m out of clever tricks. Why not just take my ball and go home?
I could really stand to hear, “Son, you’re alright. Rub some dirt on it, walk it off! Get up off your ass, FIGHT! Tear the fucker’s throat out. I’ve got your back.”
Encouragement like that would be welcome right about now, just as it was when I was a boy.
Yeah, I’m 60+ but my Dad is still my Dad, and I’m still his Son.
Hmmm… Okay Old Man… Message received. I’m getting up off my ass, give me a minute.
