Queendom: Bebe Zahara Benet's One Woman Show

In early 2007, I started making regular Thursday night appearances at the Town House, a little bitty queer bar, beloved by lesbians, tucked between a used car dealer lot and a junk shop on University Avenue in St. Paul, MN. Thursday night was the weekly Pumps and Pearls Drag Revue. My first night at the revue I was dazzled when Monica West, the host of the show, introduced the French speaking, African Diva, straight (or gayly) from CAMEERROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON: Bebe Zahara Benet.

Over the next year and a half, I rarely missed a show. I burned through a boyfriend and at least 1,000 $1 bills celebrating the art, beauty, grace, and fierceness of Bebe Benet. I was there, at the Town House, in early 2008 when it was announced that Bebe had been selected to be a contestant on the new reality show on Logo: RuPaul's Drag Race. I about fell out of my chair in excitement.

In August 2008, I left Minneapolis, and I wasn't sure if I would ever see Bebe again. Of course I saw her again, on Logo. I watched every week and every week I texted Bebe sending her love and support. And then she won. Great googly moogly, she won. I had total faith in her, and I was so happy to see a queer black African immigrant win what instantly became drag's new highest honor.

Much to my delight and surprise, I ran into Bebe a couple of times in NYC. Last year, on my birthday, we had dinner. And then glory of glories last November she moved to New York. I now count Bebe amongst my best friends. We are family, and I would do anything to support her as a person, her career, and her artistry.

On Thursday, May 20th, you also have a chance to support this remarkable man-dressed-as-a-woman. If you are in New York, clear your calendar and join us for Bebe's show--Queendom: An Intimate Experience with African Royalty.

Here is the information:

Venue: Don't Tell Mama
Address: 343 W. 46th Street (between 8th and 9th Avenue)
Time: 8:30-10:30pm
Cost: $15 and two drink minimum

Description:

Queendom is not simply an utterly unique and entertaining performance. It is an interactive experience that transports its audience to the royalty of Africa. The theater becomes a majestic African palace and the audience members become its honorary guests. A story is told through a fusion of upbeat American music with harmonious African chanting and tribal elements resulting in a fresh and edgy musical experience that is beautiful to the ears and healing to the soul. Glamorous animal inspired high fashion original costumes and décor are a visual treat. And speaking of treats, royal guests never leave empty handed as special gifts that tickle the senses are given to everyone at every show. Each season brings a new Queendom performance making this an ever changing event worth visiting again and again. The star and creator, Miss Bebe Zahara Benet (Winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Season 1), is a Cameroon native and left no detail gone unnoticed. It is a production built on great knowledge, impeccable taste, and deep passion. It will leave you feeling good and sassy! Queendom is a must-see.


JOIN ME FOR THIS EVENT. I will be there. So should you be.

Minnesota Part Two: Mosquito Attack!

Minnesota is L’Etoile du Nord, the land of 10,000 lakes, and a giant breeding ground for hawk sized mosquitos that pull kamikaze dive runs on exposed skin and suck you dry. God forbid you miss a spot during your daily bath of Off bug spray, because those vampiric bitches will find whatever spot you missed and siphon off enough effluvia to start their own blood bank. I have mosquito bites on my toe nails for Christ sakes.

Sorry…got distracted by a hottie wearing a black zippy with his chest amply visible from my third floor apartment window. Back to mosquitos.

Frack mosquitos! (Tiffany told me I curse too much in my blog posts, so I have decided to say frack today instead of the other f-word….blame Calamari for that one).

So, Friday night last week, David and I got back to Aaron Keith’s condo to prepare for the wedding of Denise and Mike. Around 5:00pm, my phone rang, and Little Chicken aka Tay Tay Begay aka Taylour Johnson was downstairs. Taylour drove five hours from Madison to Minneapolis to hang out with me for 24 hours before returning to Wisconsin. That’s love people. Take notes.

Shortly after Tay Tay’s arrival, David, Taylour, and I set out for the nuptials. With confidence, we set out on foot for St. Paul College…less than a mile walk from AK’s pad in downtown St. Paul. I thought that the choice of the college was an excellent one. It was perched on Cathedral Hill directly across from the gothic St. Paul’s Cathedral. The view from the hill top took in all of St. Paul, the state capitol, and the Mississippi River. In my mind, I was silently acknowledging the wedding location. After trekking upwards for about a mile, we finally wove our way around several interstate interchanges and found ourselves standing outside of St. Paul College.

The college was under construction, the parking lot empty, and caterers were setting up down the block for a wedding…for the next day.

After twenty minutes of milling around, I finally was able to summon the actual address of the wedding from Taylour’s iPhone. The event was at the St. Paul College Club….not St. Paul College.

An hour later, on foot, we reached the wedding…just as it ended.

DOH!

As we entered into the posh St. Paul COLLEGE Club and found the guests sipping wine and the wedding party taking pictures. We stood on the back porch, and my eyes immediately filled with tears. Denisse was absolutely stunning. Ms. Velez now Mrs. McHugh is a radiant human being. Her spirit shines brightly within her, and it is obvious that she is a woman of poise, intelligence, and integrity. I fell in love with her the moment I met her, and I felt as if I had found a sibling that had somehow gotten lost in my hodgepodge familial mix.

Her man is hot as hell, and I have already laid claims to him should he ever swing even remotely bisexual.

After a few moments Denisse looked up and saw us standing against the club’s back door. She smiled broadly and waved and mouthed “I love you.” I smiled and said, “I love you back…” and then the three of us, Taylour, David, and myself, went back inside to take advantage of the free beer and wine. As dinner began, and the toasts were made, I looked up to find Denisse beckoning to me. I moved through the crowd and hugged that adorable vision of perfection. Denisse and I met on the Latino Advisory Committee to the Mayor and City Council of Minneapolis. She is as brilliant as she is beautiful.

The rest of the night passed quickly. The highlight of which was getting to dance merengue with Denisse in her wedding gown, and oogling the hot Espanola working a bright orange dress with mango juicy breasts. After Denise and I danced, her mother leaned over and said, “You are an amazing dancer.” That night, I was inspired.

By half past ten, we were all exhausted. We hopped a cab and shot back downtown. The cost of the cab from where we were to where we were staying was about ten percent of what it would have cost to go the same distance in NYC. Damn I miss the Midwest.

Later that night, Tay and I decided to go out for a drink at the gay bar down the street. Now, when I moved to Oakland, the Innuendo was the new hip gay bar. I even did a lube wrestling fundraiser for my former softball team there.

Times had changed.

We walked into a full on bear bar. And not the hot daddy kind of bears. Oh no…these were the ginormous bear eating bears voguing and quaffing buckets of Long Islands.

We left quickly.

Our second day in Minnesota was amazing (except for the hour and a half walk to the wedding). Seeing Denise and Mike happily married was enough to make me start planning my own wedding. And, seeing my Little Chicken, who drove all the way from Madtown to see me, was a super awesome treat. Family and friends are amazing…especially when they are hot.

Minnesota Part One: Isn't It Romantic?

So a lot of life has happened since last I wrote. Iran had an election, and, in keeping with recent U.S. tradition, we still don’t know which candidate is president. The New York State Senate is still in a deadlock with a locked chamber and a bunch of lunk heads screaming at each other on NPR. Obama caved on the Defense of Marriage Act but signed an executive order extending benefits to the domestic partners of federal employees, and Chastity Bono is a big old tranny named Chaz (I called that one ages ago).

As The World Turns…

Last week, David and I began a whirlwind tour through the great state of Minnesota. Speaking of not knowing election outcomes, Al Franken has not yet been declared the winner of my home state’s Senate seat, but Norm Coleman has been ordered to pay roughly $100,000 in Franken’s court fees since Coleman lost several appeals already. Teeeheee.

David and I hit the tarmac running…shortly after arriving, we found ourselves surrounded by bright sunshine and a rental car. We cruised down 35E to St. Paul, with a quick stop for some Taco Hell. And by Hell I mean that once that grade D beef hit my lower intestines, the gates to Hell opened in my anus and let forth a stench like the Devil’s breath after rimmin’ a dirty hole with a yeast infection. It was just that nasty.

We got to downtown St. Paul, and we met up with my old friend Aaron Keith. A big old delicious hunk of a mocha man with vocal chords that could melt butter. AK was a dear heart and volunteered to loan us his condo while we were in town. He went off to stay with his boyfriend Jerry (we’ll talk about her in a minute), and he gave us the keys to the condo. It was spectacular. After a quick shower and change, David and I headed off to have dinner.

We shot down 35W and headed to Powderhorn Park. The best damn neighborhood in Minneapolis. There, tucked onto a street just across from the park, is the Purple House…home of Susan and Rocki and Luca and Flo and Kelly Brazil. At any given time, I have known Susan and Rocki to have anywhere from two to six roommates in addition to their daughter Luca, cat Patzo, and a couple different canine inhabitants. Also a gecko…we can’t forget the gecko. We were met on the sidewalk by a jump ropin’ Luca Peluca head. I scooped her up and gave her a bear hug. She jumped down and darted into the house…and out came Mrs. Raffo-Simoes…who gave me one of those love hugs that reaches right inside of you and makes everything absolutely ok. I introduced her to David, and it was love at first site between him and her. That made me happier than a clam in the ocean with plenty-o-plankton to eat.

Susan made up a lesbo-licious batch of goodness…some roots and berries and the like. Rocki came home, and I about did a high kick….and we all sat and visited and caught up. Just being near Susan and Rocki changes my whole outlook on life…I can be the saddest most forlorn creature…a spittin’ image of Gollum and those two, without coddling or condescending, turn me right back into a jolly furry footed hobbit. And I got the hairy toes to prove it.
We left Susan and Rocki’s well fed and wishing Susan well as she was leaving on the MS 150 bike ride from Minneapolis to Duluth the next afternoon. After some sidewalk chalk time with Luca and a surprise visit from Nicole and Alejandra, we headed back to St. Paul.

Aaron Keith is an amazing jazz singer, and it just so happened that he had a gig directly across the street from the condo. Now, by the time we arrived, David and I were about to fall over from exhaustion. Jet lag between the East Coast and the Midwest is a bitch

The bar where AK was performing looked like a cross between a Hooters and an old Prohibition speak easy. I was waiting for Dillinger and a go go dancer to walk in at any moment. Instead we walked in to find Aaron Keith croonin’ and Jerry, his boyfriend, channelin’ his inner Negro.

About seven or eight years ago, I was dating a guy named Rich. On Valentine’s Day, Rich and I went to see Aaron Keith perform at Jazzmine’s in downtown Minneapolis. At the time, AK sang “Isn’t It Romantic,” to us. I have been hooked ever since. I love that song, and I love his arrangement of the song. Moments after walking in, AK said to the audience that he had a friend in from New York City (doing his best Pace Picante Sauce voice)…and then broke into the song. At the end he looked out and said that I must have an old soul to love that song. Later that night, while having dinner at Mickey’s Diner, I was singing another old song from the juke box, and an elder woman came over and asked me how I knew the words to that song…saying, “That song is from when I was a girl.” I may have been born in the 70’s but my soul was manufactured around 1935.

But back to Aaron Keith…or more specifically…his boyfriend Jerry. Jerry was a trip. The man is one of those white guys that loves black men and, after a couple of drinks, turns as black on the outside as they feel on the inside. Jerry tried to get really ghetto on me, and I had to ignite my inner negro and shut him down. Which I did. Rather quickly. You may feel black on the inside. And lord knows you have had enough black inside of you…but I am black…step biyotch. Jerry was fun. A little over the top (which is about the only thing about him that is a top)…but he was fun. And…I can see why AK tears that booty up.

After returning to the apartment and discovering that somehow in the preceding hour our key had ceased to function, we returned to the bar, got AK, and got our asses into the apartment and into sweet oblivion. I am exhausted just remembering it, and that was just day one of our Minnesota super tour. Rah rah for Ski-u-Mah!