Reevaluating the "False Prophet"

Fred Phelps' Westboro Baptist Church protested at Jerry Falwell's funeral, accusing the evangelist of being in cahoots with gays. Short of Dick Cheney and Muqtada al-Sadr doing the jitterbug, I can't think of a more surreal scene.

If the wildly anti-gay Phelps hates Falwell, does this mean I should think better of Jerry than I have? Is there reason to view Falwell as something other than an enemy of gay people?

On its Web site, Phelps' outfit announced its intention to appear at the funeral "of the corpulent false prophet Jerry Falwell, who spent his entire life prophesying lies and false doctrines like 'God loves everyone.'"

In addition to this unpardonable sin, "Falwell warmly praised Christ-rejecting Jews, pedophile-condoning Catholics," and so on. Only a psychiatrist could adequately explain Phelps. To me, he's such a fanatic I wouldn't trust his opinion on socks.

More credible is Soulforce cofounder Mel White, who before coming to terms with his gayness ghostwrote Falwell's autobiography. He told The Advocate that the reverend was a terrific father, husband and pastor, and "had a private persona that was really quite amiable."

I can believe all that. Just because Falwell was, as White said, "the face of homophobia," doesn't mean he kicked dogs. Chances are he just lectured them on the evils of same-mutt attraction.

White pointed to Falwell's willingness to hold an antiviolence summit with him in 1999. After the event, however, Falwell refused to see White again, owing, White suggested, to all the heat he took from his fundamentalist associates and donors.

I'm sure it's difficult to do the right thing when you have an empire to finance.

In the sixties Falwell famously spoke of the "civil wrongs movement." But he performed a turnaround on black civil rights, and White kept hoping for the same pirouette when it came to gays.

Falwell undeniably had a key place in history. Professor Susan Friend Harding, who studied him and his movement, told CNN.com that "Jerry Falwell led fundamentalism out of political and cultural exile," most notably as the founder of the Moral Majority. In ending this separatism, and getting churches actively involved in politics, he changed America.

And he undeniably accomplished a lot of that on our backs. In 1977 he supported Anita Bryant's anti-gay crusade, telling a crowd "gay folks would just as soon kill you as look at you." During the early AIDS years he was the model of Christian love when he said, "AIDS is not just God's punishment for homosexuals, it is God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals."

Who could forget his warning that Tinky Winky, the purple Teletubbie, was gay and a threat to children? Or his declaration following 9/11 that gays and our fellow travelers were to blame?

Which brings me to something I know for certain about Jerry Falwell: As a humor writer, I'm going to miss that man. His frequent outlandish statements gave new meaning to the journalistic term "reliable source."

Two years ago Falwell completely confused me, because he said something . . . nice. He told MSNBC, "Civil rights for all Americans, black, white, red, yellow, the rich, poor, young, old, gay, straight, et cetera, is not a liberal or conservative value. It's an American value that I would think that we pretty much all agree on."

Was he trying to get right with God as his judgment day neared? Or was he displaying that amiability Mel White mentioned? Or did he see his clout waning and wanted to sting powerbrokers on the right?

His power had indeed waned; no major White House figure or any of the Republican presidential candidates attended Falwell's funeral. I bet some gays did attend--to assure themselves "the face of homophobia" was really gone.

Burst of Good News

Lately there's been a burst of transgender news. That's unusual in itself, but what's really surprising is the news has been good. I have every confidence the other designer pump will drop, in the form of a firing or a murder—which makes it all the more important to recognize and celebrate when a portion of our community goes on a hot streak.

I take you first to Florida, where a few months ago we all heard how the Largo City Commission voted to fire Steve Stanton as city manager after she revealed her plans to transition. It looked like another career had been shot down by ignorance and bigotry, or as I accidentally shorthand them, "bignorance."

Hold the phone: Stanton is now in contention for the same job in Sarasota. The Associated Press reports that she was one of three applicants whom each city commissioner chose as top candidates.

Imagine if Susan Stanton—the name under which she submitted her resume—wins this "dream job." Her path of coming out, then landing on the scrap heap, then achieving professional redemption, will be positively Ellen-like. And will have taken about ten minutes.

Now to California, where Mike Penner, veteran sports writer for the Los Angeles Times, said in her column that when she returns from vacation she'll be known as Christine Daniels.

Bet there was a lot of hot coffee spilled in L.A. laps that morning.

"I am a transsexual sports writer," wrote Penner. "It has taken more than 40 years, a million tears and hundreds of hours of soul-wrenching therapy for me to work up the courage to type those words."

It'll be fascinating to see how this trailblazer's career plays out now. Her editor, I'm pleased to say, released a supportive statement. Penner is in a very public position as a sports writer and columnist at one of the country's biggest papers—surely some readers will monitor the photo accompanying her column more carefully than the box scores.

Then there are the athletes; heaven knows American pro sports are just starting to deal with homosexuality, let alone transgender matters. I'd lay odds that some jock points and asks her, "So, what you got in there?" The only appropriate response: "YOU'LL never know."

Now on to Fresno, where last month Cinthia Covarrubias made history at the age of 17. Biologically female but identifying as transgender, Covarrubias wanted to run for prom king of Fresno High School. The district's policy had been only males could run for king, but that was changed on the advice of lawyers who cited state law protecting students' ability to express gender identity.

So thanks to Sacramento lawmakers, Covarrubias cut a dash in a tux at the dance. He didn't win prom king, but since advocates believe this was the first time in the U.S. an openly trans student had run for royalty, that's a title that will always be his.

Like a social conservative's worst nightmare, Covarrubias started something. On the other side of Fresno, a mainly Latino agricultural city, Johnny Vera was inspired. Vera, who also goes by "Crystal," ran for prom queen of Roosevelt High School.

By a 5-1 margin, she won. Roosevelt chose itself a prom queen who's openly transgender, and 6'4" to boot.

"This person is amazing," career counselor Lupe Sosa told the Fresno Bee. "He lights up everybody around him; he always has a genuine compliment for everyone."

Vera said, "There were all those statistics about transgender kids committing suicide. People would look at me and say I was going to do drugs or be a prostitute." But she told herself, "I'm not going to let anyone but me tell me what I'm going to be."

She's a walking Lifetime movie. And our future.

Sexiness and the Eye of the Beholder

At first I barely registered the question AOL had on its homepage: "Can Ellen be sexy?" An hour later I can think of nothing else.

It's not that I pine after Ms. DeGeneres, so successful as a talk-show host that the media can identify her with just her first name. It's that this question kick-started a conversation in my head about lesbians and attraction, and I better move this conversation from my head to print, or before long I'll be inventing a few new personalities to join the discussion.

I went back to read exactly what that question referred to, but it had vanished, so I sleuthed a bit. It seems Carmen Electra had just been on "Ellen," promoting her new book, "How to be Sexy." Aha, she probably got Ellen to strike a sexy pose. I also learned Ellen has thrown out her back, so striking any pose other than "Shoot me now" would be a feat.

The assumption underlying "Can Ellen be sexy?" is that she isn't. It's true that she doesn't display many of the characteristics society defines as sexy. She's not willowy or ravishing. Her hair is short. She opts for pants, and her idea of designer footwear is Hush Puppies.

But I find her sexy. Because—I informed myself during my conversation with myself—Ellen displays heart, humor and competence.

Yup, I find those qualities alluring. And while I know some lesbians who also find such qualities sexy, I can't say whether I'm the norm or the exception in lesbian-land. Knowing me, probably the exception.

I'm not claiming looks don't matter. I'm not that far gone. I think Ellen is cute as the dickens.

What I mean is oftentimes society's standard of what's sexy about women doesn't work for me, and I don't know if that's because I'm a lesbian, a grown-up or just contrary.

Case in point. Recently I was traveling in Europe with a straight male friend of mine, Phil. As we strolled back to our hotel in Amsterdam, two women got out of a car and walked ahead of us on the sidewalk. One was tall with long blonde hair. I can't remember what she wore—only that it was tighter than a Dutch sausage. Her heels were sky-high, and my overall impression was that she had no use for subtlety.

Phil's overall impression was that he couldn't breathe. Two guys sitting in a café with their wives tracked the woman's course down the sidewalk. But for this allegedly woman-loving woman right behind her, she did less than nothing.

The next day Phil and I headed for France. We took an extravagant train from Brussels to Paris, and a female attendant served us food. She was attractive, wore a tailored uniform, switched languages effortlessly and made us feel welcome.

In the Paris train station, as she walked away, I wanted to crawl into her suitcase.

I tried to explain my different reactions to these two women to Phil, but I doubt he got it. This was similar to the time, when I was in my twenties, that I told my then-boyfriend that I thought women in their thirties were sexier than younger women. Boy, did he beg to differ.

I guess what I was really saying back then was 1) I'm a lesbian, and 2) I'm attracted to women with self-possession, ability, strength.

But I certainly learned early in my lesbian career that the stereotypical brand of sexiness has many Sapphic fans. Standing in a bookstore looking at magazines with my first girlfriend, I picked up a "Playboy" to remark how little effect it had on me.

Her drooling suggested she couldn't say the same.

One for the Books

I'd read in the American gay press that Britain's only gay and lesbian bookstore was facing a future as bleak as Anne Boleyn's. Since I planned to visit London shortly, I knew I had to scope out the place.

Near the British Museum and the University of London, at 66 Marchmont St. in Bloomsbury, I found Gay's The Word. Should any passerby confuse that name with "Grease is the word," there's further explanation on the storefront: "Lesbian & Gay Bookshop."

In the window, along with books, were four articles about the shop's potentially imminent demise. Gay's The Word is experiencing the same problems so familiar to American gay bookstores, like online book-buying, the growth of chain bookstores, and rising rents.

The shop, in business for 28 years, has also seen a unique challenge. The bombings of July 7, 2005, happened nearby, and led to a drop in sales. Presumably this byproduct of their handiwork would tickle the bombers, were they alive to enjoy it.

I entered the store to one of the gayest sounds on the planet, the warbling of Madonna. She crooned her hits until she had some sort of seizure and was replaced by Kate Bush.

I scanned the books, divided into sections like "Detective Fiction," "Biography," "Coming Out, Sex & Relationships," "Erotic Fiction," "History" and "Marriage/Civil Partnerships." There were also DVD's, cards, magazines and used books.

Quite the gay-intensive experience. If I didn't live 6,000 miles away, I'd have asked for a job.

The entrance featured a notice board and loads of pamphlets, as well as free magazines and newspapers. Outside, people hardly broke stride as they leaned through the front door and grabbed publications. I know—twice I had to shimmy out of the way.

At the register, a letter to patrons of the bookstore explained why the place is in trouble and what people can do about it. Buying books is the most obvious solution. The most creative is sponsoring a shelf, what the store calls its "Cash For Honours" program. Hand over 100 pounds (about $190) and you're officially listed as a "Friend of Gay's The Word."

And before anyone could say "God save the queens," people responded. Manager Jim MacSweeney told me, "It’s going in a very good way."

With major newspapers running quotes from prominent authors like Sarah Waters extolling the shop's significance, and customers telling him how much they appreciate Gay's The Word, MacSweeney said the acclaim of the last six weeks has been like "having your obituary before you’re dead."

The strokes are good, and so is the money. "It's given us some breathing space to look at options," he said.

So at least in 2007 Gay's The Word can continue to sell books, hold readings, host groups, dispense information and be a touchstone for both the novice and veteran queer. The shop faced its Waterloo, and once again the British won. For now, anyway.

MacSweeney told me of being on the phone recently with a guy ordering titles from the teen list. MacSweeney asked how he wanted to pay. The fellow responded hang on, I'll put my mum on the phone now.

I loved that story, as mushy as that English favorite, mushy peas.

Wanting to do my bit, I inspected the "Lesbian Fiction" section for something to buy. The whole shop is loaded with American offerings, but I thought a local book would be appropriate. I chose "The Patterned Flute," billed as "a very British tale of lesbian romance with action shadowed by cynicism, heartbreak and lust."

Romance? Lust? Doesn’t matter if you're English or American or Peruvian, those words will suck in any lesbian reader.