Oh yes, I know it is FLAG Day, but where is the fun in that? We are not the least bit patriotic, at least not what passes for patriotism these days- the ability to consume one’s own weight in ground beef, drape a flag over everything, and pull a lever for the most lipless totalitarian on the ballot. We are much better suited to black and blue than red, white and blue.
So, back to the gays. If we had a three dollar bill, who would we put on it, anyway? For our very first F@g Day, I nominate Quentin Crisp, the English writer, bon vivant and cleverpants famed for his fabulousness, and fabulous for being so famous. My mother gave me his memoir, the Naked Civil Servant, to read when I was a tender high schooler, a good girl with a horrible attitude. Perhaps she wanted me to quit feeling so special for being such a smartass. Naturally, it worked the opposite. I loved the book and the film so much, that I was hardened in my desire to be a ribald contrarian, a vulgar raconteur. Crisp proved that if you could survive on peanuts and champagne, you could make a living out of charming people at social engagements. Hats off to the finest of glad fellows, Quentin Crisp, but make sure it is replaced at the appropriately jaunty angle.
“If at first you don’t succeed, failure may be your style.”- Quentin Crisp