30 Minutes Before Midnight

The Politics of Imagery: A Black Doll Show -NOT a LGBT exhibit

2011-12-08T22:49:00.000-08:00

I was very excited when I read the posting from Friends of William Grant Still Art Center and the United Neighborhoods Neighborhood Council presents the 31st Annual Black Doll Exhibit.Please submit your dolls for inclusion and participation in this wonderful event. The exhibit theme is "The Politics of Imagery". The old adage "a picture is worth a thousand words" will be examined for its impact on us. The goal is to heighten awareness to the subtle, subliminal messages influencing a point of view /even self-concept. The dolls will be in historic environs from now, going back in time to the Middle Passage. We will salute President and Mrs. Barack Obama. We need one-of-a-kind handmade, retrospective, historical, miniatures, large and extra large items. We also need dolls from African Diasporas, modern mixed media, political, antiques. Be creative!

I submitted my proposal:
1. For the Brothas & Sistahs Who Ain’t Here- will be a wall panel 6 feet x 9 feet. A memorial quilt to images of brothas & sistahs lost to AIDS, violence, hate crimes etc. It has signatures on it and will have my own original cloth dolls in various sizes.

2. The Black Boy Who Liked Pink- is a political statement about boys who like pink. I am re-designing a black action of Dennis Rodman in a pink gown of my creation. It will include a true story about a kindergarten boy who was harassed for wearing and liking PINK.

3. DADT- is a re-invention of my GI Joe dolls celebrating the removal of “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” with an Super hero Obama doll watching over them.

4. 30 years of AIDS is enuff Black Men!- is a series of 6 brown action figures pocketed in an African quilt wearing various political statement buttons on safe sex and HIV awareness that I have collected over the years.

When I arrived with my dolls I was greeted by strange stares and the curator Mrs Miriam Ferguson explained to me that there was a problem. She said she was not quite sure if my dolls fitted into the theme of her show. She explained that my proposal and photographs did not give her a clear picture, but she was willing to see my pieces in person to make a final judgment. I laid my work out of the floor and began my pitch explaining how each was important as a political statement. Mrs. Ferguson and her son, “KENTE” began looking at my work with an awkward nervousness. She could not deny my DADT piece was powerful. I even located a superhero Obama doll that when pressed said “Yes We Can! I noticed they were not making eye contact with me as they kept returning to the wall panel complimenting me on the beauty of my original dolls created with mudcloth and kente fabric. “KENTE” even began a speech on how long it has been since Magic Johnson was diagnosed with HIV.

I was becoming a bit irritated as Mrs. Ferguson walked back and forth and finally said, “We will take the DADT piece and the wall panel.” I walked away calmly and took a few deep breaths. Was it just me or was there a homophobic energy surging across that decision?

I returned a few minutes later and although I was very upset, I said in the firmest voice I could muster without crying, “ I don’t like the way you have treated me here today. You have made me feel uncomfortable since the moment I walked in the door. I am not sure if I want any of my dolls in this show. I am beginning to feel if you cannot accept all my doll presentations, I will decline the offer to show in this exhibit.” I started packing my dolls and Mrs. Ferguson asked to speak with me privately. She apologized for her behavior and reassured me that she was not homophobic and followed by putting her foot in her mouth when said that statement we gay people love to hear,

"Some of my best friends are gay. I lived next door to a lesbian couple for years."

I told her I could cut the homophobic tension in that room with a knife. She explained she had the biggest problem with the six naked dolls making a safe sex message. She asked if they could be clothed. I refused.

I have lived my life as an openly gay black male artist and I had no intention of going into the closet because she was uncomfortable with a few naked black action figures (with no penises!!!!)

I asked her what was her real fear and she admitted that she was concerned with what her church members would say when they saw my work. I responded, “You are 70 years old. What they gonna do, stone you or expel you from the congregation?”

This was a woman who was a part of the Watts Tower project. Her husband was the first black curator at LACMA. She has been a part of the black civil rights movement in the arts for many years. She told me:

“That was the civil rights movement, this gay movement is a very different thing.”

“So in other words you can celebrate James Baldwin (gay author)’

Go Tell It On the Mountain,

because of the religious significance, but let’s not talk about his interracial gay love story in

Giovanni’s Room,

because we as black people are uncomfortable with same sex behavior?”

“Yes” was her answer.

“You you are comfortable with the sad beauty of the panel of dead people lost to AIDS but uncomfortable with six naked dolls with safe sex messages because it raises the issue of talking about sexuality that might keep people alive?”

Finally, after a few hours of negotiations, she agreed to include my work. She could not guarantee where it would hang, but she also asked me to provide additional documentation so that when her church members saw my work they would understand the political significance. I printed and framed the Obama HIV AIDS policy. I printed and laminated political buttons that addressed and included images of President Obama and his stand on LGBT issues.I arrived during the installation and observed the work in chaos. I also observed outside of a few Michelle and Barack Obama dolls, not many dolls in the show made a political statement. What I also noticed that no artist provided any printed literature to support the theme of political imagery.

I sat around for two days and watched her dodge around my work. She hung mammy dolls, black bride dolls, African kings & queen dolls. She hung pictures of Malcom X, Martin Luther King Jr, Amiri Baraka and Angela Davis (You do know that Angela is a lesbian right?)I patiently asked as I helped hang other artist's work when I could hang the rest of my work, she kept saying that she was waiting for more work to arrive and she still was not sure where my art would fit into her “vision.”

It is now three days to the opening of the show. I gazed across the gallery and saw more paintings and posters than I saw dolls.On the third day, I arrived and asked the director of the center, Ms. Ami Motevalli if I could hang the rest of my work. She instructed her staff to start hanging all the remaining art because the show was three days behind schedule. Mrs. Ferguson arrived two hours late and demanded my work be removed. She gave me a stern look and said to me,

“So you think you are the curator of this show now?”

She stormed into Ami’s office and said,

“This is not a Black LGBT show. This is a Black doll show. I want that FAGGOT FREAK show taken down right now!”

Ami called her supervisor at the Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs who informed her that due to Mrs. Ferguson’s lack of communication with me at the onset of her show, any removal of my work at this point is an act of censorship. My work could not be touched. The day ran rather smoothly after that discussion. Mrs. Ferguson treated me with the utmost respect.Towards the end of the day a twelve year old girl entered the center and asked to speak to me after seeing the six naked action figures in a bed with safe sex messages.

Her question was,

“Mr. Madison, I see you have all these buttons on your work.

What does this button mean, Celebrate Diversity?

I answered,

“It means we enjoy and embrace the fact that we are all different. It means I can respect you as a straight girl and you respect me as a gay man.”

She said, “Thank you very much and I want to say you have the most interesting piece in this show.”

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABIES….

P.S. I got a wonderful message from the President of the City Council of Los Angeles,

Herb Wesson who assured me that my rights as an artist would be protected and to contact his office if there was any more confusion.

with Councilman Wesson at the opening of the show. Everyone "played nice" (almost)

The Black Doll Exhibit opening reception is Saturday, December 10, 2011 from 3-6 pm and it closes January 28, 2012.The William Grant Still Art Center is located at 2520 West View StreetLos Angeles, CA 90016(323) 734 1165.

Road Trip to TRANNY FEST!!!

2011-11-02T21:20:00.000-07:00

Road Trip!

There is a great scene from the movie To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar where the three main characters Chi-Chi Rodriguez (John Leguizamo),Noxeema Jackson (Wesley Snipes) and Vida Boheme (Patrick Swayze) decide to drive from New York to Los Angeles to attend The Drag Queen of the Year contest. They trade in their airplane tickets for cash and buy a stylish but old Cadillac convertible to drive in style across country.

I had flashbacks of that movie as I prepare to attend the San Francisco Transgendered Film Festival this weekend. It is being held at CounterPulse (1310 Mission Street at 9th Street, SF).

My short film, The Panty Man is screening on Saturday at 8PM. I was so excited my film shot in 2008 is getting a second life due to the success of Shangela (of RuPaul’s Drag Race fame a.k.a. DJ Pierce) who plays a younger version of me in the film.

I convinced two of my dear friends to drive from Los Angeles to San Francisco with me. The first was Miss Valerie Spencer. She is the executive director of the Transcend Empowerment Institute. She was featured on “Beautiful Daughters” a documentary on LOGO channel about the first transgendered version of the Vagina Monologues. The second was Malik Shakur, my agent, lawyer, manager, friend, baby brother, bad cop and driver.

I was feeling very Patrick Swayze. I am on a mission. I am the clear leader. The reason for the trip is my film. Valerie is my Wesley Snipes. He is very loving, outrageously funny and gives very honest advice. So where does that leave Malik? He is not a boy in a dress. He is a fish out of water around drag. Although he has directed my one-man show, has held my purse and helped me in & out of my high heels, Malik ain’t feelin the drag thing, but like a good friend he is there when I need him.

Yeah it would have been cute to rent a convertible, but a simple mid-sized car will do. We will crank up the music for an 8 hour drive up the coast on an adventure. A tranny, a drag queen actor and a boy not in a dress. I will be carrying my autographed photo of Mary Wilson as inspiration. Because of her, I have dared to dream and so many of my dreams have come true.

To Dale Madison,
Thanks for Daring to Dream
Mary Wilson

The Fabulous Sylvester

2011-09-06T07:30:00.000-07:00

On this day September 6, back in 1947 Sylvester James was born. Who would have thought the amazing circle of life would connect our lives. He was eleven years older than me and we lived on different sides of the country, but music is that common bond that joins most people together. I twirled in the discos to Disco Heat, You make me Feel Mighty Real, Someone Like You and his version of Patti Labelle's You are My Friend.

I remember seeing him on a talk show with Joan Rivers proudly claiming his love for his husband long before gay people had the legal right to marry.Years later I read the story of his life and even had an opportunity to read a film script by a friend who was pitching a filmversion his life. His life was FABULOUS and I was so thrilled to learn of his association with a Drag Queen Gang (The Disqoutays) in Inglewood not far from where I live today! How scandalous!

Sylvester was unabashedly gay and he did not care who knew it. It certainly was a challenge for the record company executives to figure out what to do with him or the homophobic radio stations refusal to play his music. He struggled for a voice in the world of music for many years until the magic of Martha Wash & Izora Rhodes (The Weather Girls) zoomed him to the top of the charts with You Make me Feel Mighty Real.Until TV One did a UNSUNG piece on him (To this day it remains the highest rated segment of that series) few people realized The Pointer Sisters were his original background singers.

Through a chance meeting at a LGBT museum opening I met his baby sister Bernadette. She was exhibiting some of his original jewelry pieces. ("JEWELERIES" as he used to call them) I invited her to my one-man show where we closed the show with a musical slide tribute using his recording of "You Are My friend." A couple of weeks later we met up for lunch that ended up lasting about seven hours filled with with laughter, tears and wonderful stories. She reminded me of my own baby sister.

QUESTION:Whats it like to have a gay brother?
ANSWER:You get early lessons in make-up &; fashion!!

BJ (as she is called) grew up to be make-up artist!!!

Sylvester James was one of the early pioneers raising awareness and donating time and money to the AIDS cause. He was also one of the early visible losses of the disease. I spent the Labor Day weekend re-reading the story of his life with a new perspective. It is always fascinating to read bio on a person after you meet some of the real people involved.

One of the things I found a real connection to in his story was a message I tried to deliver in my first one man show. He spoke of INTRA-discrimination in the gay community. As gay people we have so many outside forces who treat us differently because of our sexuality. The real irony is We have even more people who are LGBT that discriminate against each other. Butch vs Fem, Gay men vs Lesbians, Leather vs Drag, Everyone vs Bisexuals. The thing I admired most about Sylvester was he refused to be pigeonholed. Some days you wake up and feel like a dress and some days you feel like a pair of pants.Some days you feel like panties and some days you feel like boxers.

Happy Birthday Sylvester James!!!

I feel like panties today

Dreamboy: One Night Only in Santa Monica

2011-06-15T21:01:00.000-07:00

Highways Performance Space Presents:

My Life in 3 Easy Payments,

Dale Madison’s Interactive Story of his Life as a QVC Host and Beyond,

Told Through Spoken Word, Songs, and Video

Friday, August 5 at 8:30pmHighways Performance Space

at the 18th Street Arts Center1651 18th Street; Santa Monica, CA 90404

Santa Monica, CA - Highways Performance Space presents Dale Madison’s new one-man show My Life in 3 Easy Payments as part of its summer-long Queer Performance Festival Behold! In My Life in 3 Easy Payments, Dale Madison speaks to the pop culture phenomenon of reality shows and the quest for fame at any cost. If you have basked in the shallow cloak of fame, can you ever really recapture it? Inspired by Sunset Boulevard, A Star is Born, Dreamgirls, drag queens, Diana Ross, Glee, music videos, African storytelling and his own unique experience of selling products on live television, Madison offers a humorous interactive story through spoken word, songs, storytelling and video footage of his life inspired from his memoir Dreamboy: My Life as a QVC Host & Other Greatest Hits.

Highways Performance Space is located at 1651 18th Street, in Santa Monica, CA, ½ block north of Olympic Blvd. Tickets are $20 general admission and $15 for members/students/seniors. Buy your tickets online @ www.highwaysperformance.org. Call 310-315-1459 for show information and to reserve.

“I have wanted to do a show at Highways for the past eleven years I have been in Los Angeles” says Madison. “The stars finally seemed to align. I was finishing my master of arts in education at Antioch University when queer arts performer Ian MacKinnon did a presentation at our school. He invited me to Queer Mondays at Highways where I did a short excerpt. Leo Garcia saw me and the rest is queer history!”

About Dale Madison:
Dale Madison is an acclaimed spoken word performance artist, educator, writer, actor, filmmaker and former host for the QVC network. The film version of his memoirs DREAMBOY: My Life as a QVC Host & other greatest hits. received “Best LGBT film at the 2008 San Diego Black Film Festival. His latest book is an adult fairy tale, Sissy Sammy in the land of WEHO90069. It is the story of a bullied feminine boy from the hood who gets lost in an all-gay town. Dale, a volunteer mentor with LifeWorks, is featured in the new I AM, WE ARE prevention campaign sponsored by WeHo Life. This campaign features organizations that offer Gay men opportunities for a positive experience in their own lives and a positive impact on the larger community.

No More Down Low TV recently interviewed him on his life and challenges of being a gay artist.

Highways Performance Space is in its 22nd year as Southern California’s boldest center for new performance, promoting the development of contemporary, socially involved artists and art forms from diverse local, national and international communities. Artistic Director Leo Garcia continues to affirm Highways mission of developing and presenting innovative performance. For more information, photos or interviews, please contact Patrick Kennelly, Associate Artistic Director @ 310-453-1755.

Seeking Spectacular LGBT Visual & Literary Artists for ATB Pride

2011-05-15T13:39:00.000-07:00

At the Beach (ATB ) Los Angeles Black Pride 2011, held during the Independence Day Weekend for the last twenty-two years will continue festivities on Thursday, June 30, thru Monday, July 4, 2011, at the Radisson Hotel LAX, 6225 West Century Boulevard in Los Angeles and at Point Dume Beach in Malibu, California. This annual festival draws thousands of LGBT people from across the country, and across the seas. We can be assured that most people who will attend this years ATB event come to experience the magic of the longest running Black Pride program in the country. This celebration means only one thing…come ready to party! The 2011 theme is “So Caliente!”, and it promises to be hot.

Visual Artists : Seeking LGBT artists showcasing fine art, sculpture, photographic &, graphic images, inspired from Harlem Renaissance envisioned for today's world. “The Spectacular Exhibition” opens on Friday, July 1st and runs through July 4th

Our vision is to “fire the human imagination with works of art that inspires, uplifts, and celebrates the LGBT experience”. Our mission will be to “provide a platform for trend-setting artists from the LGBT community and their associates whose paintings, sculpture, graphic, and literary arts display a level of excellence that were hallmarks of the Harlem Renaissance era , but relevant to our time”. Over a four day period, in a two thousand square foot space, ten selected artists will be invited to exhibit powerful concepts in painting, sculpture, graphic arts, and photography.

Two forms of creativity combine together for a SPECTACULAR EVENT!

Literary Artists : Seeking LGBT best spoken word artists to compete in a night called “So Caliente” on July 3rd and published erotica writers to discuss their works

It is Getting HOT up in Here!

ATB Pride keeps the heat goingduring its

Celebration!

You barely have time to cool down from the heat generated at the Pool Party

When we turn the heat up one more notch with

anEvening of Erotic Spoken Word called

So Caliente Spoken Word!

The Catalina Room of the Radisson Hotel at Los Angeles Airportbecomes a gallery of art created by LGBT artists. The centerpiece of a night where the written word takes the mind to sensuous places of sexual imagination. Check out the art, but get ready to:dim all the lights when anerotic slide show is set to sexy old school musicEnjoy the talents of LGBT best spoken word artists as they “SPIT” sensuality into original written works.

A trophy will be awarded to the“So Caliente Artist”of the 2011 Los Angles Black Pride.Judged by a panel of authors who will be discussing erotica in their written works.

6PM-9:30 PM
Author panel discussion 6PM-7:30PM
Erotic slide show 7:30 PM- 8PM
So Caliente Spoken Word 8PM-9:30PM
Catalina RoomAdmission $5 dollars

Spoken word artists are encouraged to submit video clips to be considered for the competition.
Please email links to: artist@atbla.com

Also looking for published LGBT authors with a “So Caliente” themed book to discuss this year’s theme of erotica in LGBT writing.Please email press kits links to: artist@atbla.comDeadline: May 25, 2011

The theme is So Caliente! (VERY HOT)
If you write HOT Erotica
and you "spit" erotic spoken word poetry
we want to hear from you!

Pour a Lil Sumtin For the Brothas Who Aint Here

2011-04-28T17:03:00.000-07:00

“This is for the brothers that ain't here!” As witnessed in the movie Cooley High. Cochise pours a few drops of liquor out the bottle before he drinks from it.

How do you celebrate the life of someone who loved to drink? You get drunk. A week later I am trying to put my sober thoughts down to purge the feelings inside. It started with the call early Saturday morning on the way to a photo shoot.

“Dale, I know you guys had not spoken in over 10 years, but I knew you would want to know, Eddie Jones was shot shortly after leaving the Eagle bar at a bus stop. He died at the hospital.”

It’s true, the last time I spoke or saw Eddie Jones it was 1999. We had spent two intense years in a relationship. One of the major reasons I moved to Los Angeles was to break the unhealthy cycle of being an enabler in a relationship with an alcoholic. He actually broke it off with me, the final straw was attempting to intervene on behalf of his health to his mother. He said I had crossed the final line. It was during the Baltimore Gay Pride festival of 1996 that I first saw Eddie Jones from across a crowded room and fell in love. He was short, freckle-faced, , knock-kneed, and balding, with the most beautiful teeth I had ever seen. He also had that thickness around his waist that I found very sexy. I snapped a photo of him because deep down inside I felt that we would meet again; and we did. Two weeks later, I saw him crossing Liberty Heights Avenue, walking his dog. I gave him my number. When he called the following week, I invited him to see the movie Stonewall, because I was in a brief scene or two. He spent the night and we held each other all night long -- without having sex! When he saw my Diana Ross & The Supremes memorabilia collection, his mouth dropped open. He suddenly turned to me and kissed me, as if he had found his “Supreme” soul mate.

I had bought my first computer and the internet connected Eddie and I to other Supremes enthusiasts. We joined an online Supremes fan club and ordered old performance videos from other collectors. Our typical Saturdays included rummaging through thrift shops and used record stores, looking for old Supremes albums. In 1997, Eddie and I attended the Supremes Fan Club Convention at the Motown Café in New York City. Only two of the eight Motown Supremes showed up, Scherrie Payne and Lynda Laurence. I wore my Mary Wilson t-shirt and Eddie wore a Diana t-shirt. We took pictures with Scherrie and Lynda, who at that time were billing themselves as the FLOS (Former Ladies the Supremes).

Later that year, we caught Diana Ross performing at Trump Plaza in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Eddie and I were the ultimate fans, wearing identical Diana Ross t-shirts and talking to all the other “Rossaholics” seated near us.

Eddie and I spent quality time in bed early in the mornings talking about funny or odd dreams we had experienced the night before. I was a morning person and, to my delight, he always seemed to wake up with a smile on his face. I found it pleasurable to kiss him before he brushed his teeth -- I loved the way he tasted. In 1998, ABC aired the television documentary special Motown 40: The Music Is Forever. We threw a Motown party and Eddie designed a cake with the Motown logo. He was the perfect date. Everybody liked him because he was so sociable and non-threatening. I remember Eddie surprised me when a former QVC co-worker invited me to their wedding; when I showed him the invitation; he reached into his closet and pulled out a wrapped present! He would buy gifts and store them until the right occasion, always ready for a party! We took many trips together. Our trips away from Baltimore usually took us to Washington, D.C., Atlantic City, or New York.

We constantly took photographs and made a huge collection of photo books. Our favorite pastime was taking pictures of ourselves in front of places that had our names in them. It felt like a good luck omen whenever we took a trip and ran across a place like the “Madison Hotel” or the “Eddie Jones” store. I had suffered from migraines as an adult and, even though their occurrences had decreased over the years, I could still get a doozie from time to time. When one would hit, Eddie would hold my head in his lap and stroke my forehead until I fell asleep. We connected in so many ways, but familiar problems from my past relationships began to surface. Eddie loved alcohol. Of course, his drinking only became an issue if I was feeling angry or rejected. As long as I was getting what I wanted, I was completely happy to be in denial especially since when I looked back on it, Eddie treated me wonderful when he was drinking. It was to my advantage to keep him intoxicated. It was when he was stone cold sober that his words could be so cutting. He said something to me in jest that has never left me:

“I am not an alcoholic!

I am a drunk. Alcoholics go to meetings!”

I convinced myself that we were perfect for each other. We looked so good together. People told us so. We were laying in the sand at a beach in New York once and a perfect stranger walked up to us and said what a great couple we made. Eddie thought I had paid the guy to say it! We tasted good together. We smelled good together. We even communicated in our own special language, our own private code. Eddie used to say that my life was like a television movie, and we would spend countless hours laughing over the casting of famous singers and actors as our family and friends. We’d then reference people, (including ourselves), by using the celebrity names we had chosen. In the movie of my life, Blair Underwood would play me, and Freddie Jackson would co-star as Eddie.

He made us laminated cards that identified us as members of “The Ross Gallery.” We were co-curators for the Ross Gallery, which probably housed one of the most extensive, (and unique), collections of material on the Supremes and Diana Ross to be found anywhere. (The Ross Gallery was really just my living room filled with my Supremes memorabilia.) Nobody could convince me that I did not have real love, except Eddie.

One Sunday after our weekly sexual ritual, Eddie lay naked across the bed and calmly told me he thought, “Whatever we had” had run its course. He explained to me that I needed to prepare myself for the ending. “I have always told you I was not in love. I’ve always considered you a special friend. I have always enjoyed spending time with you, until you made it feel like an obligation.”

“Why can’t we try again?”

“Dale, you have always tried to make this deeper than what it is. I don’t want to be in a relationship and that is what you have tried to make this thing we have.”

“No matter how you look at this, Eddie, this THING we have shared has been a relationship for two and a half years!”

“And I tried it your way. Now you need to accept what I want and let me go.”

Every effort to hold on to him only pushed him further away. I was like a heroin addict going through withdrawal. Meanwhile, whenever we would talk or whenever I saw Eddie on the street, I would beg for another chance. I was losing my self-esteem and Eddie’s respect.

Before we separated, I had noticed that his ankles were swelling, and I worried about his drinking and his health. After our break up, he started on medication for a diagnosis of high blood pressure. I kept thinking that I could save him and protect him from himself. I told his mother that I was concerned about Eddie mixing his alcohol with his prescription drugs. When Eddie learned about my little talk with his mother, he was infuriated. Whatever level of friendship I had maintained with him, I destroyed.

Gay church and Iyanla Vanzant tapes got me through those rough first few months. I finally decided I needed to find a way to heal from the breakup. I decided to do something really different. I decided to have my nipples pierced. After all, how else does a gay man really get over the love-lust of his life? I thought that the pain / pleasure of sterling steel through nipples should do it. I promised myself that the pain of losing Eddie would leave once the pain in my nipples stopped. However, in that moment, I gave myself permission to cry and wallow in my own hurt and depression.

When the opportunity arrived to produce my play in California, it was just the change I needed. I immediately packed my bags, because I was more than ready to close the Baltimore chapter of my life and see what the west coast had to offer. I was leaving “Charm City” Baltimore, a city I loved, and I needed to grow up, love myself, heal, and accept a failed relationship not as a mistake, but as a learning process that would make me a better person. The nipples healed, the pain ended. I did find a man who loved me as much as I loved him. I was a better partner to him because of what i had learned from my mistakes with Eddie.

When the news finally hit me that Eddie was really gone, I opened a bottle of vodka and started drinking toasts to him. I took out all the picture books I had of him and listened to all the Diana Ross & Supremes songs we loved so much. That following Monday I was scheduled to do a performance at a gay theater showcase in Santa Monica. I dedicated it to him. The irony of the lyrics did not even hit me until that night. I was doing a monologue about the church, homophobia, “real” hetro men versus gay men. The lines were written for me 15 years ago:

I was born gay. But what is my real crime? I'm not robbing people on the streets or selling drugs. I'm not a father who misses support payments. I've never killed anyone. I pay my bills on time; rent, taxes, car note. Hell, I'm employed. And you say I am not a man. Because of who I choose to love.

Eddie was shot on the streets of Baltimore by a “real” man, a real robber and a real killer.

BALTIMORE -- Baltimore police have arrested a man in two separate killings from last week.Isaac Truss, 23, faces several charges, including first-degree murder.Truss is accused of shooting a man to death inside a senior assisted living facility on Conway Street on Thursday and for killing another man at a bus stop on Fayette Street on Friday afternoon."Homicide detectives caught up with him within hours after he committed his second murder in 24 hours. He was arrested. He confessed to those murders. The ballistics matched," said police spokesman Anthony Guglielmi. Police are looking at robbery as a motive in both cases. They said they identified Truss using CitiWatch crime camera footage.

Hey Eddie, like the guys in Cooley High, I'm pouring a lil sumtin for the brothas who ain't here!

The Black Man in the Pink Shirt

2011-04-15T16:51:00.000-07:00

Today April 15th is the Day of Silence for thousands of students in all 50 states have taken a vow of silence to protest anti-LGBT bullying and harassment. These brave students are doing what far too many school administrators and lawmakers won’t: collectively, they say enough to anti-LGBT hostilities in America’s schools, and demand a unified effort to make it a thing of the past.

Students who take a vow of silence put themselves on the line when they do it. Many are tormented or made fun of by peers. Others face hostile attitudes from their teachers. It takes a lot of bravery to take a public stand in front of all your classmates and faculty. Bravery is also what it takes to create change.

Honey, I just wonder what you do there in the back of your pink Cadillac?

When I decided to go back to school and get my degree in education, one of my main goals was to protect, inspire and champion LGBT students and their causes. Recently I had a long-term assignment as a substitute teacher in an urban neighborhood. I had the joy of working with kindergarten kids. I find them the most excited about learning and they teach me with their honesty. My class of kinder kids come with their own issues and challenges, but at the end of the day, I can tell they want to be there and look forward to the next day. I co-teach with an amazing woman from Canada. We have a wonderful working rapport. She is also very open-minded. We have great chats about the differences in American culture, health systems and gay acceptance.

One day she asked me to observe the behavior in a student. He always came to school immaculately dressed. He wore a beautiful single stud earring. I considered him a very bright student, who always arrived on time and gave me very little discipline problems. The only thing about him odd was his very high-pitched voice. My co-teacher asked me if I thought the student showed the makings of being gay.I had not given it much thought. Children both male and female that young are so asexual to me. There are moments when both sexes behave very feminine as well as masculine in my opinion. Then she told me of a situation where the students created an “All About Me” poster project version of Show-N-Tell.

The students get to select what color poster paper and he selected pink. The teacher was contacted by the parents (because he lived in a two-parent household) who were concerned about their son’s color choice and the teacher assured them she did not influence his selection. My co-teacher felt pressured by the parents to suggest other colors. He gravitated to yellow for a while after that incident, yet he selected pink for other projects as time went on.

On Thursday April 3, 2011, I was passing out previous work the students had done. The little boy had several art projects on pink and yellow paper. Suddenly a little girl blurted out:

“Don’t know boy supposed to use pink paper!”

The comment caught me off guard for a second as my co-teacher quickly ushered the girl to her desk for a reprimand. I also took a moment to explain to the girl that boys can like any color they choose just as girls may find the color blue pretty to them.

Later my co-teacher and I discussed the situation and agreed it had to be a learned behavior. The particular girl, who comes from a single parent household, is often dressed in the same attire each day has discipline and emotional problems. In fact, when her mother comes to school she is inappropriately dressed. The girl is raised in an environment of negative behavior with limited support of raising her consciousness.

I wanted to send a message to both students, so I wore a pink shirt the following day.

I wanted the boy to know pink was okay. I wanted the girl to know she could not bully or pick on the boy for something as simple as a color choice. She needed to see someone was going to stand up for him.The next day when I arrived in the pink shirt, his eyes lit up. I said,

“Mr. Madison wore his pink shirt just for you!”

He let out a high-pitched squeal that would have made every queen in America proud. God Bless him! The other kids kept saying how much they liked my pink shirt. Throughout the day when the class would get quiet, I would repeat that I wore the shirt for the little boy. Each time he would squeal again. It made me cry inside to be his champion. As I explained later to my co-teacher, I don’t care if he is gay or straight. It was the fact that someone tried to make him feel less than because a color gave him joy. I just hope one day he will look back and remember someone he admired and respected let him know it was okay to like pink.

If it works for Diddy, TI, Kayne, Camron, Gregory Jackson, Maurice Jamal and the cast of Friends & Lovers?


Dontae Winslow here with Dr. Dre is one of the strongest male father figures I have ever met and he is comfortable in his pink shirt!

When I posted it on my Facebook status, I got over 25 responses in less than two days. A buddy of mine suggested to get a group of us to show up to the school together dressed in pink. (side bar: They already have a Pink Shirt Day in Canada!)

Then someone sent me the article about the mother who painted her son’s toenails pink. It is amazing how synergy goes through the universe. Today at the gym, I saw a guy with his toenails painted black. I did not have a substitute assignment today to show my support on this Day of Silence, so I share this with you in lieu of my red shirt and button this chapter of my life.

Kind of wish I was on a freeway headed to Canada.....

City traffic movin' way too slow
Drop the pedal and go...go...go

Goin' ridin' on the freeway of love
Wind's against our back
Goin' ridin' on the freeway of love
In my pink cadillac

Why Leopard?

2011-03-13T22:24:00.000-07:00

In the eighties I did an animal print tribute to Diana Ross' Eaten Alive

People who discover my love of all things leopard tend to ask the inevitable question “What got you into leopard?” After a lively posting on Facebook this morning, I got to asking myself where this obsession came from.My earliest memory of enjoying leopard was back in 1976.

I met a really sexy older guy who rocked my world. He was dark chocolate with a deep voice. The skin was smooth as butter all over. The first night we made love, he wore a very tight pair of bikini leopard-print underwear. I remember admiring them and the way they hugged his body. I eventually bought myself a pair. I still have them in fact. I can’t fit them anymore, but they hang on a lamp cord in my bedroom.

I don’t think I really owned anything else leopard until the 90’s. I started making African print cloth dolls when I was working for QVC. I was asked to make a collection of dolls to sell at Macy’s in Crystal City for Black History Month around 1992. I decided to make a leopard print collection. During that time, when I would make appearances as a doll designer, I tended to make myself a matching outfit. I made leopard print vests for my partner and myself to make us stand out from the crowd and draw attention to the doll collection.

When my partner and I ended our relationship about four years later, I was in a situation where I was finally allowed to decorate my own place. Most of my adult years, I either spent in relationships with a dominating men. When I was married to a woman, she was an artist and a fabulous designer, so I let her handle all that stuff. I realized I always had to compromise my tastes to compliment another person. On my journey to decorate my first official “single” apartment, I ran across a couple of leopard print rugs. I liked them and purchased them. Then I purchased more items to compliment them. I loved coordinating leopard. Suddenly it came to me one day through observation that leopard print appeared to be a pattern that never went out of style. I would notice it in old movies as well as new movies. In television shows, you could always tell the sinful character by the leopard print. In fact, when I was cast in Homicide: Life on the Streets as a prostitute, I wore a leopard print ensemble.

I have seen leopard worn classy and trashy. It popped up on something in every fashion season. I made the assumption that if I purchased something in leopard print, it would always be current. After that observation, I noticed leopard print everywhere so I started adding more pieces out of the fun of collecting. As a kid, I collected comic books, Motown records and as an adult I began collecting male action figures (dolls!) I considered my leopard print items another form of collecting.

When I moved to Los Angeles with my one-man show about a cross dresser named FREEda Slave, I needed to dress a piece of furniture. Leopard seemed like the obvious choice. I even had a leopard gown designed for the character with matching leopard shoes.

The other thing I discovered when I moved to LA was 99-cent stores and Big Lots. Every week I would purchase an inexpensive leopard item. It was amazing. I could go every week and find a new leopard print item. It was like they knew I was coming. TJ Maxx & Marshalls have rows of leopard print accessories every week. My Mom bought me a leopard wallet that I will treasure until it falls apart. The cashier is always amazed when I pullout that huge leopard clutch wallet in the check out line

For my 47th birthday, I decided to throw myself a leopard print party. My significant other at the time became very upset with me. We had shouting matches about it. His mom reminded him that if that was the only thing negative he could find to fight about, he was very lucky. She went out and bout me a leopard print manicure set. GOD I love that woman! He ended up surprising me by wearing a leopard print head wrap. That was the best birthday gift he could have given me.

My leopard purchases led to me being cast in a reality show for the Discovery Channel called “Over Designed.” My friends wrote in and told them about me and they came to my home “kinda” ambushed me like a drug intervention. I was whisked away into a hotel while they re decorated my home and removed the leopard. Then they come back six weeks later to see if you went back to your old ways. The 500-dollar fee they paid me, I used to purchase more leopard print. Unfortunately, the show never aired. What a hoot!

I threw several leopard parties over the years and even had my family dress up in leopard print. My mother loved it! Someone told me once that old women really like leopard print. Now when I see a senior citizen wearing leopard it makes me smile. Recently I discovered a great website called:

www.TheLeopardPrintMonkey.com.www.TheLeopardPrintMonkey.com

My first purchase from them was a leopard print back pack, then I got a leopard mouse pad, a computer carrying case and several high-end leopard items. The wonderful thing about the internet is you can find other people in the world who share your love of anything seemingly odd. When I released my first book, the tour was nicknamed the “Leopard Tour.” I had all leopard print luggage and a different leopard outfit for every city where I did book signings.

Wendy Williams launched her talk show the same year. When I learned she shopped on QVC and loved leopard print, I started an internet campaign to get on her show. I posted on Facebook “What leopard shoes should I wear on Wendy?” I had three choices and each show I named after one of the original Supremes.

I sent Wendy two copies of my book wrapped in leopard fabric. Sadly, the Queen of All Media did not respond to my leopard invitation.For the most part people find it funny or cute and it is a nice conversation piece. When I first started working with kindergarten kids and wore my leopard print converse all-stars, they used to say, “Mr. Madison has cheetah sneakers!”

This led to a discussion of the difference between a cheetah print and a leopard print. (See how I made it educational!) They squealed in excitement by the fascination of it all. One day I was called in to substitute for a 7th grade English class in a very challenging area. I had a leopard print case for my cell phone a Verizon voyager at the time. One student remarked when my phone rang and I reached to turn it off, “Oh my God. He must be gay! No man would ever have a leopard print phone!” Everything went downhill after that with her shouting remarks about my sexuality and attacking me as a person. She was later suspended for bullying.

As my birthday approaches next week and my friends and family ask me what I want. The answer is always simple. This man can never have too much leopard. I saw a leopard print iPhone cover.(HINT) Wendy Williams was wearing a size 12 pair of leopard print boots that looked really cute. (HINT! HINT!) She and I wear the same size! I am not above wearing the opposite gender clothing especially when it is leopard.As someone said to me once, there are worse addictions to have. I don’t smoke crack. I don’t rob people. I am not a serial killer. I pay most of my bills on time. I just happen to collect leopard print.

I don't wanna get eaten alive
'Cos you're so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I don't wanna get eaten alive
'Cos you're so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I don't wanna get eaten alive
'Cos you're dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I don't wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive

Damn Good Man: Open Mic Night

2011-01-21T19:42:00.000-08:00

gay history

I tell U

The history of our people

Lead us to beautifully colored rainbow lands

But we should never forget where we started

So I take U on the journey

tossing away all your stereotypes

Classical artists from Harlem Renaissance

tell our story in hidden messages

And oh how they did it

They would tease the listeners

Who think we’ve got it all figured out

I mean which ever side of the sexual tracks

U grew up on

It really doesn’t matterWhether U top / bottom

Or play it straight

We all share an aching need to be blissfully lost,

Lost in the magic or their words

From James Baldwin to James Earl Hardy

We trust, when time rightU will lead us home

From Langston Hughes to Essex Hemphill

We trust, when time rightU will lead us home

From Zora Neal Hurston to Audre Lorde

We trust, when time rightU will lead us home

We trust U…

Langston Hughes

Countee Cullen

Bruce Nugent

Zora Neal Hurston

James Baldwin

Audre Lorde

Essex Hemphil

Joseph Beam

Assotto Saint

Marlon Riggs

Isaac Julien

Bayard Rustin

E. Lynn Harris

&all the talented tenth in between

I'M COMING OUT (My" It Gets Better" story)

2011-01-06T07:44:00.000-08:00

The time has come for me

To break out of the shell

I have to shout

That I’m coming out….

I want the world to know

Got to let it show

(From the song “I’m Coming Out,” from the Diana Ross album Diana, 1980, composed by Rodgers, Nile/ Edwards, Bernard)

My first gay crush was on my best friend in high school. I lived in a small navy town in Portsmouth Virginia. His name was Bruce Melvin. We both were in the drama department. Bruce was cool with a huge perfect smile set in a handsome, square jaw. He had the deepest voice I ever heard for a guy at sixteen. We both wore our hair in the huge Afros of the day, his in a square shape to match his face and mine in a fitting oval. He was ultra smooth with girls and had scored many sexual conquests. Whereas I had only been with three girls before I met my girlfriend, Bruce had been with dozens. Once, when we were engaged in a conversation with some female friends, Bruce made an argument in favor of oral sex; he reasoned that it was cleaner than kissing because fewer germs reached the vagina than the average mouth. It made sense to me at the time -- until I realized that it takes a mouth to perform oral sex!

Being around Bruce was fun. We had been best friends since fourth grade, even after he took the lead away from me in the play No Man Is An Island. He had played Marley’s ghost to my Scrooge in A Christmas Carol the year that my voice changed and I almost lost the role of Ebenezer Scrooge. He gave me the nickname I had always wanted, calling me “Big D,” D as in “Dale,” not “dick.” I was taller than him by half an inch; in stature he was a little guy, and I called him Lil’ Stud because he was such a ladies’ man. One night after play rehearsal, we got high and I confessed my feelings for him. He rejected me, but promised to remain my friend. We made an oath to meet up at NYU and become famous actors. It was hard looking in his face after that incident.

I devised a plan that would change the course of my life. My parents were divorced and my father lived in Baltimore. When my father came to visit, I told him that a man had molested me in a Norfolk peep store and I had started smoking weed as a result. To sweeten the story, I told him that I had hidden a bag in the house. I told him I was afraid to be in Portsmouth because I thought the man would try to come back and do something to me. My father took me out of school the next day and I packed my bags to go live with him in Baltimore. After arriving to Baltimore, I realized I had made a huge mistake. I was entering my senior year with all new friends. I missed Bruce terribly. Although living in Baltimore city allowed me more of an opportunity to meet other gay people, I was still very confused inside.

Somehow, I have to make them

Just understand I got it well in hand

And, oh, how I’ve planned

I'm spreadin’ love

There’s no need to fear

And I just feel so good

Every time I hear: I’m coming out

It was 1976, my senior year at Baltimore’s Northwestern High School that my sexuality really blossomed. I lucked up in drama department when I entered the class of Michael DeBoy. This was long before money cuts from arts programs. The school produced several productions a year. My first production at my new school was the play Day of Absence. We were entered in a regional one-act play festival. The night before the festival, I tried to commit suicide. To this day, I cannot explain why I was so depressed that I took a handful of aspirin and drank that cough syrup. I believe I blocked out the memories of the fear and confusion I was going through at the time. I left home and sat underneath an expressway hoping never to wake up. I fell asleep and the cold night air woke me up as I vomited. I walked home with a huge headache thinking that was a bad idea.Ironically, the role I played in Day of Absence was a husband whose wife wakes him out of a deep sleep to tell him that the “mammy” is missing. The dark comedy is a story of what happens to a city of townsfolk who wake up one day to find all the “black” people missing. I will never forget one of the comments given to me that day was how believable my performance was as the sleepy husband.

In the play GODSPELL. That's me in the Batman shirt 6th from the right

My next production was the musical Godspell. The experience evoked memories of my sixth grade production of A Christmas Carol. I had to learn the song “We Beseech Thee” for the role of Jeffrey and, while I was a great actor and dancer, my singing was not supreme. Mr. DeBoy replaced me halfway through the production but later called me back, just as Mr. Brown had done in the sixth grade for my role as Scrooge in A Christmas Carol; He told me he would rather have an actor who couldn’t sing than a singer who couldn’t act. He made me join the gospel choir and take voice lessons to up my game. Though my singing was off tempo, at least my voice did not crack! Making it through that production is what allowed me to get closer to Eddie Greene, my second crush.

Eddie was chubby and light-skinned with big, full, beautiful lips. He had long eyelashes and wavy hair, cut in a “shag” style. The Afro was beginning to play out, and the shag haircut was what guys were transitioning into. The best way to describe it is that it was the black version of the mullet haircut. Eddie was playing the lead of Jesus in the production of Godspell. Every time we would rehearse his death scene on the cross, you would have thought the real Jesus Christ had died up in that theater. He was loud but talented; in fact, he was voted “Most Talented” out of the senior class. We started going out and began a torrid affair.

Being a boyfriend to the most popular kid in school made me feel special. Our affair was very passionate. Eddie and I would cut class and make love in his car, or slip away to the park or spend the afternoon in his home when his mother was at work. In those days, kids who were having sex would wear their hickeys on their necks, (or wherever else on their body!), as a medal of honor. It was an advertisement that told all your friends, “Hey, look at me -- I’m having sex.” It was like all those broken blood vessels were actually something to be proud of, some kind of sordid pride.

One day I came home and my dad asked, “Which girlfriend put that hickey on your neck?”I proudly responded, “Or boyfriend?” My arrogance surprises me to this very day. Foolish high school love makes a person feel like Superman. I felt like nothing could hurt me because I had the love of Eddie Greene.My father walked out of the house. When he returned twenty minutes later, he told me that I had to move out of his home. My life changed in that moment. I knew I did not want to move back to Portsmouth, Virginia. I had four more months of high school. My dreams of going to NYU to study acting had just flown out the window. With my father disowning me, I wouldn’t be able to get his financial information to provide to NYU in consideration for financial assistance. In addition, I had to figure out where I was going to live. While my friends would be preparing for the high school prom, I would be shopping for an apartment and just trying to graduate.


I met the director of Cooley High, Michael Schultz in 1999

Fate must have known that NYU was just a dream, because Bruce ended up going to Syracuse University that fall. The week before he was to leave for college, he came to visit me at my little ghetto apartment. We shared my fold-out sofa bed, never touching, but I still desiring him. We hung out every day and went to see movies. We saw the film Cooley High, the African-American version of American Graffiti, complete with Motown music. I imagined that it was our story up on the screen; Bruce was ladies’ man Richard “Cochise” Morris, and I was nerdy Leroy “Preach” Jackson, who left town to become a writer.

Because I worked the night shift, our time during the day was limited because I had to sleep part of the day away. As the week drew near its end, I played hooky just to hang out with him on his last night. I told him again how much I wanted him, and he told me again that he could not and would not be with me in that way. In a final act of desperation, I swallowed a whole bottle of aspirin and refused to speak to him. Bruce called an ambulance. The medics told him that I wouldn’t die from an overdose of aspirin, but that I’d be very nauseous. They kept me a few days for observation at the hospital. When I returned home, Bruce had left for college. I would not see him for many years after that.

I ended up moving to Hollywood and met many of the stars I watched as a teenager.


Like the character Glynn Turman portrayed in Cooley High, I did become a writer!

My first year of “out” gay life had held its share of dark moments. I had attempted suicide twice. I was young, inexperienced, and did not have a mentor to talk to about what was happening to me. There were no gay talk groups or community centers to go to where I could find other young gay people out on their own. I had made an enormous step out into an unfamiliar world and I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. I was living on instinct, but determined never to live life in a closet. I am so thankful I made it through to see life today.

A buddy of mine, not knowing I was gay, once went on incessantly about a hot lap dance he’d received from a busty female at a strip club. Instead of pretending that women were my sexual interest, I shared with him an experience I’d had with a male stripper at a gay bar. After he picked his face up off the floor, he had to admit that he respected me for being open and for treating my gay life just as normally as he treated his straight life. Yeah, that’s me, spreading universal acceptance by teaching one straight person at a time.

The year 1976 represents more for me than just the bicentennial of the Declaration of Independence or the year I turned eighteen, the year I took my first legal drink, voted, or moved out on my own. It was the year I stumbled out of the closet and fell on my face, got up, knocked the dirt off and said,

“Hey, look at me. I am gay and it does get better.”

GO TO: WWW.SISSYSAMMY.COM TO READ ABOUT MY NEW BOOK!

There’s a new me coming out

And I just had to live

And I wanna give

I’m completely positive

I think this time around

I am gonna do it

Like you never knew it

Ooh, I’ll make it through

Does Your Mama Know About Me?

2011-01-03T17:04:00.000-08:00

DOES YOUR MAMA KNOW ABOUT ME?

Does your mama know about me?Does she know just what I am?Will she turn her back on me or accept me as I am?

(From the Love Child album by Diana Ross & the Supremes, 1968)

I discovered a new me through my one-man show, FREEda Slave: Mask of a Diva. For Diana Ross, the film The Wiz accompanied a significant change in her life. She left Motown and her husband, moved to New York with her kids, and started a new life. The moment I put that dress on in June of 1994, I too was Dorothy, about to experience a new gust of life. The only difference was that my slippers were purple

rhinestone.

The funny thing is that, as a kid growing up, I was scared to death of drag queens. When I was about ten, my mother, brother, sister, and I were strolling in a Portsmouth mall when we saw a drag queen. My mother grabbed our faces and told us to look away, as if looking at the man in a dress would turn us to stone. Years after I came out of the closet, I continued to avoid drag queens. If I saw a drag queen in a gay club, I quickly looked away to avoid eye contact. Part of me thought it was rude to stare and look for flaws. But I also feared what a drag queen might say or do, as I’d heard that many were vicious, loud, and violent. I was told that drag queens were always on the offensive, looking for an audience to watch them belittle the shy and the innocent. In the gay nightclubs, rumors spread of their rough language and their switchblades, and both were intended to cut you down to size. I learned quickly, “Don’t mess with Miss Rhoda or Miss Pebbles. ‘Cause you know them girls keep a razor blade between their fake tits, and they have no problem using it!”

I didn’t have a clue about drag, and I wanted to learn to think like a drag queen. My thirst for more education inspired me to start a new and very different extra credit project. “Convicts looking for pen pals” was the ad I saw in the Baltimore Gay Paper. I responded by sending pictures of me in lingerie. I always started my correspondence by telling them that I was a man dressed as a woman. The response was an outpouring of romantic lettersThe letters were rather poetic, and some became quite intense. The inmates would send me pictures of themselves, and I would send them even more pictures of me in drag.

Maybe I shouldn't worryBut I've been through this beforeAnd I'd like to get things straightBefore I'm knocking on your doorDoes your mama know about me?Does she know just what I am?If she says forget about meDo you think you'll understand?

The show awakened feelings in me I never knew I had. I met many different people while doing FREEda, because they would search me out; married, single, gay, and bi-sexual men began to confide in me about their love of cross-dressing.

Do you care what people say?Will you accept the burdensI know will surely come your way?

Maybe I shouldn't worryBut I've been through this beforeAnd I'd like to get things straightBefore I'm knocking on your door

In the last season of Homicide: Life on the Street, Pat Moran asked me to audition in drag for an episode called “Closet Cases.” I had already done background work for Pat, and the last three assignments I had booked through her had all been in drag. Finally, on the “Closet Cases” episode, I landed a speaking role. But it was as a drag queen hooker. I wanted to have a shirt made that said,

“I’m not a drag queen -- I just play one on TV.”

I was cast with a real drag queen in that episode, who would play my character’s street walking partner. We played two ladies of the evening being interviewed by Detective Frank Pembleton, (played by Andre Braugher), and his partner, Detective Tim Bayliss, (played by Kyle Secor), in a case involving gay serial murders. That "gurl" gave hair and makeup a fit. She / he refused to have them touch his face, so the make-up (that he applied himself) came off looking like a clown mask on screen. He smelled of alcohol and was apparently high, and proceeded to hit on the crew guys who stared at him. I arrived to set as professional I as could,dressed as a man, and allowed them to do anything they wanted to me to create the character the director needed. I wasn't pleased with the way they styled my wig making me look like Diahann Carrol from Dynasty, but I did not make any changes. The long fingernails they put on me prevented me from being able to urinate on my own, and I asked myself, “How do these girls do it?”

with Andre Braugher on the set of Homicide life on the Streets

After a successful staged reading, we mounted a full production of FREEda Slave at the Hudson Backstage Theater in Los Angeles that ran for four months. It was a dream come true to be on stage in Los Angeles.

We got a great first review, a critic’s “pick of the week” in Backstage West / DramaLogue:

We see a lot of autobiographical one-man shows, but never too many good ones, and this is a good one. FREEda Slave: Mask of a Diva is its doubly significant title -- a multiple play on words that delivers the gist of this actor's confessional apologies. Madison does some soul-searching, asks puzzling questions, and even comes up with a few satisfactory answers. Why was he compelled as a youngster to dress up in his sister's clothes? Why did he wake up from a dream with a seemingly heaven-sent answer to his problems, a conviction of his calling? Why was he willing to lose the love of his life, (and he did), for the freedom to dress in women's clothes?

As Alfred/FREEda, the character he plays, Madison eloquently explains that clothes may make the man but do not make the man a woman. He is acting, role-playing; he remains a man, a black man, a gay man, which is difficulty confounded -- but after all, a man. "Before I'm gay, I'm human," he avers. "Before I'm black, I'm human." Speaking directly to the audience, he declares that most of all, "FREEda Slave is a tribute to all the women I've ever loved and admired: Coretta, Maya, Aretha, Diana, Gladys, Lena," and others both fictional and real, including his sister Fredrika, and the wondrous super-diva Miss Marlena, who virtually adopted him, ("the first time I had a mother.")

He paints the picture of what Native Americans called a "beradache," a perfect combination of man and woman in one person. Madison is an ingratiating performer; eminently likable, genuinely sweet-spirited, good-looking as a man and better-looking in drag, (he has great legs.) He gets expert help here from the lighting designer (uncredited), from recorded music (sometimes skillfully lip-synched) by Gladys Knight, Billie Holiday, The Supremes, etc… and most especially from the playwright/director, Wharton. FREEda Slave is a seamlessly collaborative expression.

— Polly Warfield

To be an actor in Hollywood for the first time and to get a review like that, I was on top of the world. We got “okay” reviews from the gay press. I couldn’t figure out why we got lots of love from women, but it was like pulling teeth to get gay men to come see the show. I made arrangements that allowed drag queens to come for free. I wanted to meet them and, if possible, get their take on what I was doing. Coco Perez (a white performer) was doing a one-person show in West Hollywood at the same time, and the gays loved her! (She had speaking lines in To Wong Foo, so she was already known to a degree.)

West Hollywood, or “WEHO” as it is sometimes called, is a strange animal. Black gays have spoken of the area with subtle, racist overtones. Interestingly, the zip code is 90069 -- Now where else can a gay person live with “69” in their zip code? Before the show’s run ended, and luckily for me, one of my promotional cards wound up at Castle Rock Entertainment where a new pilot called Tinsel Tales was being shot by Bruce Eric Kaplan.

(Kaplan would later executive produce the series Six Feet Under.)

Tinsel Tales was a fictional series patterned after the E! True Hollywood Story documentary series. The producers of the show called the theater looking for me. It was my first audition in L.A., so I took a video clip of me in drag on Homicide. For Tinsel Town I won the role of a drag queen madam who has slept with famous celebrities and dishes the dirt. “I’ve seen them on their way up and I’ve seen them on their way down,” was her memorable line. My scene was shot in a Hollywood mansion, and Ernest Borgnine appeared in the pilot. I had worked with his wife, Tova, at QVC, where she promoted a wonderful skin care line made from cactus. Talk about living the Hollywood dream…and I didn’t even have an agent! Once we finished shooting the episode, I attended a private screening of the pilot. However, as is the case with many pilots, ours was never picked up.

Thus would begin the cycle of my Hollywood experience -- a promise of something big, then disappointment. When I later saw Kaplan’s name attached to Six Feet Under, I thought he might call me to play a quirky drag queen who ends up dead. No such luck.I finally did get an agent after signing with Agency West, but began to learn right away what Hollywood means by “type-casting.” After my agent left the agency, I got even fewer auditions. And when they called, it was always for a drag role. “Dale, there is a new Macy Gray video that needs a drag character, you would be perfect. Can you be in drag and in the valley in an hour?”“Dale, that Lifetime series Strong Medicine needs a pre-op transsexual to play Jenifer Lewis’ best friend. We are sending you straight to producer interview. Dress up.”“Dale, City of Angels is doing a show about a botched sex change operation on a transsexual. Can you pick up the sides and go down to the studio in drag for a reading?”

The challenge was that I always grew a beard on my off time, and had to go through an entire transformation just for an audition. I hated getting dressed in drag in the middle of the day and driving to a casting office. Gradually, the “drag” auditions dwindled down, and acting work in general became less and less.In 2006, I got a call from a casting agent who had seen FREEda on my website. He was looking for a background extra for a new Joel Schumacher movie, starring Jim Carrey. The producers wanted to interview actors in drag that they had selected from pictures. The casting director explained that the film’s director wanted to handpick the actor for the scene. “You mean they want to handpick a person who crosses in the background and never has anything to say?” I questioned, with a touch of sarcasm in my voice.“But this isn’t just anyone, Dale,” the casting director explained. “This is Mr. Joel Schumacher, who directed Flawless and wrote Sparkle, Car Wash, and The Wiz.”

“The Wiz?” I asked.

Within moments, I shaved my beard and put on my sexiest leopard mini-skirt and push-up bra. In broad daylight, I drove from Inglewood to downtown Los Angeles to meet the man who had helped Diana Ross find home. The film project was called The Number 23 and I won the audition hands down, using the very same outfit I had worn on Homicide: Life on the Street almost ten years earlier. The only difference was my wig, which I had changed to a fiery red. Joel loved my leopard ensemble. He made a few changes -- he had me grow a couple of day’s worth of hair stubble because he wanted me to have a not-so-perfect look and he had me remove my wig. The effect he wanted to achieve was a hooker who had been sitting in a police station for several hours playing cards with an officer who I was very familiar with.

During my scene, I was surprised and delighted when he asked me to improvise with the speaking actor. Joel burst out laughing and said, “I love what you’re doing!” Suddenly I shot from drag queen background extra to day player. Joel signed my VHS copy of Sparkle, (I had forgotten to bring my copy of The Wiz), and my contract named my character as “Lady of the Evening.” I wanted to be called FREEda SLAVE, but who argues with Joel Schumacher? I was turning forty-eight the following week, so I had a chain link tattooed across my arm with the words “FREEda Slave.”

I rushed to the film’s private screening six months later, only to discover that my scene had been cut out. After twenty-five years of trying to break into the business, I realized that I was tired of trying. I hung up my high heels and that Vivienne Tam dress, and they have been retired, indefinitely. But the things I learned about myself while wearing that dress -- the people I came to know, the insight I gained by learning what others have gone through and have witnessed, the challenge I faced by looking at myself in the mirror and being honest about what was reflected back at me -- those things I never cast off. I keep them with me, always.

We've got to stand tallTumble or crawlWe've got to be strongFor love that's so rightCan't be wrongAnd every day I see it growAnd I don't want to let it goThat's why I gotta knowDoes your Mama know?

“When you walk in somebody’s high heels, you see life from a different perspective.”

Aretha's got me "Drinking Again"

2010-12-12T15:26:00.000-08:00

I’m drinking again

Thinking of when you loved me

I'm having a few, and I’m wishing that you were here

I'm making the rounds, and setting them up for total strangers

Just being a fool, just hoping that you'll appear so I can borrow a smoke,

Sure I can sit here all night and tell these jokers some jokes

But who's gonna laugh, who's gonna laugh at a broken heart?

My heart is aching I swear its breaking and I’m drinking again

And thinking of when you left me

Can't you see I'm trying to get home

Trying to get home

With nothing but a memory

Cause I ain’t got nothing but a bottle of Seagrams

And just a memory

What if Drugs Could Talk?

What would they say to seduce you?

This idea became the basis of Actors Against Drugs. Our performance troupe brought drugs to life by showing the tricks they use to hook people. We got contracts with several companies that were trying to help their employees with substance abuse problems. Because of Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No!” drug awareness initiative, we got contracts with organizations like the United States Postal Service and the Baltimore City Health Department. We also secured a lucrative contract with the Social Security Headquarters in Baltimore, and the company mandated that all their employees attend our shows. That contract alone kept us busy for a long, long time, and covered over three hundred performances. We also did a national broadcast on their satellite network.

ALCOHOL SPEAKS:

In a world, where so many of our highs are illegal,

mine is a high people write songs about:

Martini and Rossi on the rocks..say yes

I mingle with the rich,

but I’m not too grand

that I can’t wallow in the gutter with the poor.

Cause it’s the power baby..the power of Colt 45

The power of my fermented product of whet barely and fruits

Has the power to rot your liver,

put u in a coma and take your life

So tonight ...

Here’s to good friends, tonight is kind of special...

Let it be

Lowenbrau

Do you know they try to blame car accidents on me?

How dare those mothers get M.A.D.D.????

How dare those students get S.A.D.D.????

Yes, I depress

But, if you use me in moderation,

I can be refreshing and relaxing.

When it’s time to relax…

one beer stands clear…

year after year...

If you’ve got the time we’ve got the beer

You know I can stop anytime I want to

But why should I stop?

None of you do

So don’t let the smooth taste fool you!

One in every 3 lives are affected by me

Domestic violence is related to me

Catch that silver bullet if you dare

I’m that first drug u pick up

You wanna know why?

Because I make you social

So I want to say..on behalf of Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers,

“Thanks for your support!”

For Colored Men...

2010-10-25T23:01:00.000-07:00

WANTED:

Must be a king

when I need him to be

and a queen

when he wants to be

Must like old movies, classic Motown, TV Land and Adult Swim

Wanted: a damn good man

A man who loves God, himself and a good blunt

A man who s not afraid of PDA

(public displays of affection)

A man with a cause in life that gives him a purpose

Good oral hygiene a plus

Good oral skill a must

Education required

Degree negotiable

Experience preferred,

But don’t give me a long list of references

Open to new adventures that require

Giving and taking

Flipping and flopping

Laughter and conversations

Kissing and touching

Learning and growing

Sensuality and pleasure

Wanted: a damn good man

A man you can tell your dreams to

A man who slow dances in the dark

And kinky enough to have sex in a park

A man who says:

“Dayem baby you sure look good today”

A man who says:

“I love you dammit“in the middle of that argument

A man who makes you say:

“I’ll be damned, you just rocked my world”

Wanted: a damn good man

Interviews ongoing,

Long term contract,

Multiple orgasmatic benefits.

FLASH
Flash, take a Picture

Stop, strike a pose

The me inside nobody knows

The mask I wear hides the real me

The pressure to please your image of how I should be

I’m skinny on the outside

But I’m chubby on the inside

The muscles you see

Cover the flabby me

I’m afraid I won’t get your love

I need it to survive

I have to keep up this act

I refuse to be sent home packing

My life is like America’s top Model

And I can’t let them bitches take a better picture than me

More shadow...

More contour...

It will hide the fear in my eyes

Eyes are the window to soul they say

But these colored contacts will block the way

Flash take a picture

Stop strike a pose

The me inside, nobody knows

After the cameras have left

And I wash this shit off

I shudder to think

I could have been caught....

Being myself

FREE SPIRIT

When I first saw you

I never imagined a feeling could grow so much inside me

How we nurtured that growth

The careful pains we took to make the foundation strong

This world says our love cannot be discovered

All affections must be hidden

My soul begs to be touched

But my hands must not be felt

Because I am loving you at a distance

Touching you with my heart

But not with my hands

Soar on free spirit

That is the life you must lead

I can’t hold you back from reaching those stars above

They belong to you

It was wrong for me to detour your flight

There are so many heights you have yet to reach

Thank you for letting me go and soar

The years have come and gone

I see now what you meant

Soar on free spirit

I know the life you have led

For I have lived it too

You touched my soul with your heart

And it’s just like I feel your hands.

UNDERCOVER BROTHER

In a world where many of our secrets have been kept in the closet

I remain at large

It’s a simple psychological fact that

I’m gonna suck somebodys’ dick

Why?

They call me Undercover Brother

On the Down Low givin Slow Blows

I got that horny homo itch

And I am gonna have you bitch

Dirty dirty

Nitty gritty

You better get ready

I’m about to cut loose on you

Your back alley boys has gone crazy

Taking matters in their own hands

How dare you blame disease on me?

I’m just walking round with my jacket open,

Pants pulled down cross my ass

In the middle of all this… controversy

In the middle of all this gotta blame somebody so pick on me

So he here comes, Undercover Brother

We better warn ya sister honey

You’d better run tell ya baby brother

Because I’m horny

I’ve grown horny in a city

Where people want to fuck wit me

People wanna suck on me

Just because I don’t want no labels or people staring at me

I do my dirt in the dark

And get my freak on and I move on

Like I just don’t care

And I’m scared

Of whom I am

Because I’m mad if you tell yo mama bout what I do

In a world where I go to church and come out with nothing

But a hollow sermon and fake ass judgment passed on me

So I go to another sex party

Then I go home to my wife

But the only solution

Is to for me to go out again

And somebody says

There’s Undercover Brother

On da low, givin a slow blow

I got that Horny homo itch

And I am gonna have you bitch

I sure he hope he ain’t after me

You got a right to be afraid

You afraid

All mother’s children need to be afraid

I ain’t got no intention of coming out

People sitting around trying to figure out why my image is so messed up

He wasn’t breast fed someone said

His father left him someone else said.

His Uncle played wit his ass hole when he was a kid

The babysitter sucked his dick

Shit it all felt good

It’s more exciting that way

You think you know me

But you don’t

So watch ya back, cause I am watching yo ass

My name is Undercover Brother

On da down low, givin slow blows

I got that horny homo itch

And I am gonna fuck you bitch!

ASS AND FEET

It smelled of ass and feet

I lined up silently at the glass window

Behind all the other nameless horny faces

Short- tall- young- old

Fat- thin- cute- ugly
We were all there for the same thing

Strange how we avoided eye contact in line outside

“Room or Locker?”
the attendant asked

I paid my entrance fee and got a towel, lock & key

As I made my way to the
locker room,

I glanced at the open doors along the way-the faces:

The need to be desired

The need for consent

The need to be touched

If only for a moment

Some laid on their stomach- ass up face down

“Feed me your manhood”

Some lay on their backs-
dicks at attention

“Come get this”

Still others discreetly covered by a towel looking strangely aloof

“Just chillin”

Undressing slowly at the locker door, cruising-

I tuck my lube and condom in my baseball cap

And slip off my clothes

Drape my towel and slide on my flip flops

Wandering through the basement maze of manly must

I hear moans and slurps

The sounds of penetration, the joy of oral satisfaction

A shape takes form in the dimly lit hallway

He is full-bodied and sensuous

As I take his hand, he holds tight and we make our way to an open area

I bend him on all fours

Caress the soles of his feet

And I slowly inhale his body scent

From his perfectly arched feet

To the sweet mustiness of his ass

Like a dog sniffing in heat

The ritual begins

Smelling, licking, tasting

Finally penetration-Explosive

I am quenched

I leave and head to the 7-Eleven

I am craving a bag of corn chips

I open the bag, inhale and I am erect again

WO-MAN

If I were a woman I’d be a woman like Oprah

Who’d give back to the community and help people

But I’d tell everybody my lover was Gail instead of Steadman

If I were a woman I’d be a woman like my mother who has a name called Love and loves her children openly whether they are
gay or straight

If I were a woman,

I’d be a woman like Diana Ross

And I’d dress real pretty

and have lots of hair,

But I would let the other girls in the background sing lead too

If I were a woman I’d be a woman like Audre Lorde

who defined herself for herself and leave words of hope

If I were a woman I’d be a woman like Gracie Harmon,

my 9^th grade teacher who believed in me

and provided learning experiences for me that today make me wanna teach too

If I were a woman I’d be a woman like Cicely Tyson,

who never took a role that was demeaning to black people

If I were a woman I’d be a woman like Tyra Banks,

and work that runway,

but I’d let a big boned sistah win ATM sometimes

I’d celebrate US , give back to our community, define myself for myself, work to make the world a better place, teach fertile minds, & love unconditionally, all my brothas and sistahs with a fabulous full head of strong locks, a nice set of breasts and a big ole bootaye!

MARRIAGE

Saw an old friend on the street
She said today’s your wedding
My heart stopped
The tears dropped
Saw my whole life pass me by
I never ran so fast before
I rushed inside the chapel door
You turned around
and heard me call
Congratulations

"You know the California Supreme Court just ruled in our favor, declaring that each of us has the freedom to marry the person we love.

So now it can be me

Cause she’s not the person you love
And there he was, walking down the aisle
& as he passed me by, he turned & he stared
The preacher joined their hands
& all the people began to stand
When I shouted:
"You know the California Supreme Court just ruled in our favor, declaring that each of us has the freedom to marry the person we love.

I don’t have to scream in my pillow at night:

“It should have been me
Instead of her walking with you

Getting ready to marry you”

Then the preacher asked, "Will there be silence, please?
If any objections to this wedding
Speak now or forever, forever hold your peace"
Then I shouted, CAN”T YOU MOTHER FUCKERS HEAR ME?

The California Supreme Court just ruled in our favor, declaring that each of us has the freedom to marry the person we love.

We know those haters gonna try to fight

We can’t let injustice stop our right

So man/ man gal/gal tran/tran

We all can stand

So down the aisle I'll walk with you
Just to hear the words I do
All of our life we will be
Man &Man till eternity

Something fabulous, something chic
Something rainbow, something unique
I am yours to cherish and behold
With this little band of gold

So I do

Take you for the rest of my life

Through HIV tests and Starbucks addictions

Through good times and through bad

For richer or for poor

To cherish and to love

We kissed and then we became man and man

Baby

Years from now we'll never regret

Oh, how could we forget

All the prides we marched

All the petitions we signed

All the vows we made

Until death do we part

GAY HISTORY

I tell U

The history of our people

Lead us to beautifully colored rainbow lands

But we should never forget where we started

So I take U on the journey tossing away all your stereotypes

Classical artists from Harlem Renaissance tell our story in hidden messages

And oh how they did it

They would tease the listeners

Who think
we’ve got it all figured out

I mean which ever side of the sexual tracks U grew up on

It really doesn’t matter

Whether U top / bottom

Or play it straight

We all share an aching need to be blissfully lost,

Lost in the magic or their words

From James Baldwin to James Earl Hardy

We trust, when time right

U will lead us home

From Langston Hughes to Essex Hemphill

We trust, when time right

U will lead us home

From Zora Neal Hurston to Audre Lorde

We trust, when time right

U will lead us home

We trust U…

Langston Hughes

Countee Cullen

Bruce Nugent

Zora Neal Hurston

James Baldwin

Audre Lorde

Essex Hemphill

Joseph Beam

Assotto Saint

Marlon Riggs

Isaac Julien

Bayard Rustin

E. Lynn Harris

all the talented tenth in between

HOW REAL ARE THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF ATLANTA?

2010-10-22T20:24:00.000-07:00

HOW REAL ARE THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF ATLANTA?

I have been watching the latest season of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. I feel like I am watching Generations an all–black soap opera that ran on NBC 1989 to 1991. The clothes, the glamor, the bitchiness, the over the top acting, even the soft focus and make-up for the diva stars take me bring back the days of Dynasty, except it is shot on video tape instead of film. The difference with those soap operas and The Real Housewives is that we are expected to believe one is real and one is not. I think we have milked that cow for as much fresh dairy as we are going to get. Housewives reached it’s real highpoint season two with the infamous party planner, Anthony Shorter. There was nothing scripted or fake in that fiasco. Anthony Shorter pulled the wool over Sheree’s eyes, well at least temporary. Funny thing is, he did that to me, so I know. "That's right, BOOO"

Keep an Eye Keep an eye On your close friend

'Cause what you got they'll make you lose

And then turn around and step in your shoes

I say they'll turn around And step in your shoes

(From the Diana Ross & the Supremes Love Child album, 1968, and the Diana Ross album, 1970)

Every famous person has both tales of success and tales of projects gone awry. Diana Ross had a concert debacle in 1983 when she held a free show in Central Park. The Showtime cable channel aired it live, and the revenue from the broadcast was supposed to go towards building a playground in Diana’s name. On the day of the show, not long after the performance began, rain started to pour down in an unforgiving torrent. The show was postponed until the next day, and on that day it drew over 500,000 people. Unfortunately, such a large and loosely policed crowd proved an easy target for muggers. Over a hundred people reported robberies during the second show, and some even reported assault. The city of New York incurred a number of lawsuits from victims of the attacks, who claimed that the city had failed to provide the needed security at the concert. The city settled the suits for millions of dollars and, to make matters worse, the television special didn’t even generate enough money to build the park. Consequently, Diana agreed to pay for the playground out of her own pocketbook.

For me, the film Gangsta Mafia was my Central Park before the storm. The project started out just like a sunny day in the park, and most of us involved were unaware of the approaching storm. However, the storm did come, and its name was Anthony Shorter. When I first met Anthony, he worked for Disney. I met him on AOL gay chat room. We tried dating for a minute, but I kept catching him cheating. Since there were no real romantic feelings, it was just simpler to be friends. Besides, he seemed to have connections. He took me to premieres and introduced me to celebrities like Lisa Raye, Rockmond Dunbar, AJ Jamal, and Derek Luke. These stars actually stopped by his office.

with Rockmond at SoundBoy. I am even in my official shirt

He was short, but he talked big. The planned name for the project was Gangsta Mafia and we would shoot it in twenty-two days. It was the story of the Italian mafia trying to take over the drug trade from two rival gangs in Los Angeles. Anthony and I created the story outline but my friend Darryl Wharton ghostwrote the actual screenplay. We knew the formula that Hollywood buys, so we were sure to include certain elements in the script. We had urban drama with the gangs. We had a love story between the mafia kingpin’s daughter and one of the gang members, echoing a Romeo and Juliet romance. We included rappers and comedians because we knew that Hollywood loves rappers and comics. We had hot heterosexual sex scene and an even hotter gay rape scene. The story ended with important, positive messages about the need for gang truces and unity.

Casting was a nightmare, with real gang members showing up to our offices to audition along with scores of actors from all over Los Angeles. So many talented people showed up. That’s when I learned how movies really get made -- the business is not about talented actors, it is about who will sell your film. I also witnessed the numerous favors a producer must call in to get a movie made. Anthony wanted to put his nephew, a budding rap artist, in the film. His nephew was actually very good, but Anthony later figured he needed someone who was already recognizable to audiences. He found a guy named Nomadd who said he was formerly a member of 50 Cent’s group G-Unit. Although it was hard to get Nomadd to do a convincing read, Anthony wanted to profit from the fact that he was part of the G-Unit posse. Therefore, he gave the lead role to Nomadd. Anthony also approached various local comedians about appearing in the film and, because he had worked with them previously, they were on board without too much drama. Then we got a headshot in the mail that made us all go, “What da fuck?” The name on the 8 by 10 glossy was Joey Buttafuoco.

Buttafuoco had become a media sensation back in 1992 when his underage mistress, Amy Fisher, shot his wife, Mary Jo Buttafuoco, in the face. Fisher received jail time for the shooting and Joey went to prison for having sex with a minor. However, television news and sitcoms couldn’t seem to get enough of him, and upon release from prison he moved to Hollywood to use his fifteen minutes of fame to secure a few movie roles. Anthony felt that Joey was our ticket to stardom. He cast Joey as the Italian mafia leader, although Joey had a Brooklyn accent. Joey was warm, kind, funny, and easy to get along with, and the role would be the biggest offered to him in a film at that time. Anthony started sending out press releases like there was no tomorrow, announcing Joey as one of the stars in Gangsta Mafia. Stories about Joey started popping up all over the internet. It made for great press, but in some cases, his notoriety presented an obstacle. As I was trying to secure product placement deals for the film, certain companies such as Ray-Ban would only send us product with the provision that Joey did not wear any of it. They did not want a celebrity like Joey, someone more infamous than famous, associated with their brand. Other companies would not have anything to do with us at all, simply because Joey was appearing in the film.

In general, things got progressively worse as the first week of filming wore on. Where Anthony had not set up credit accounts, he wrote checks, and he was writing them all over town for locations, trucks, and catering. He had even written Darryl and I checks to cover our living expenses during the production. On the seventh day of filming, as I was getting gas for one of the crew trucks, I realized something was wrong. My ATM card would not work at the pump. Because so many other things needed to be addressed at that moment, I did not have time to deal with the problem. We were shooting a very difficult scene that day, outdoors in Long Beach, with real gang members. It involved cars, guns, and a gay rape scene in an alley. Catering had not arrived on time, the craft services food had run out, and people were becoming hungry and disgruntled. Anthony was not on set and made himself very unavailable that day.

Now I see how she schemed and finally

Worked her way in between

She planted seeds of mistrust

To make us fight unaware

Her comforting ways when I would cry

Shadowed the look of triumph in her eye

Just like a snake on the limb of a tree

A friend is an enemy you can see

Everything was going wrong. I was juggling too many hats to be effective in handling any one thing. When it was time to shoot the rape scene, we discovered that the main actor was wearing Mickey Mouse print boxers. Darryl turned to me to me and said, ”Get him in some white underwear, now!” Normally as producer, I would have told Darryl to kiss me where the sun don’t shine. However, since I was technically also the costumer for the film, I had to take responsibility. I did not have any white underwear handy and did not have time to run to a store, nor did I have any money to buy any. What I did next even I cannot believe to this day. I took the actor aside and explained the situation, telling him that the only pair of white underwear available was the pair that I was wearing myself. It was ninety-five degrees outside and we had been working since 4 a.m. The actor, a former gang member who had never acted in his life, said, “Let’s do this.” He put on my sweaty drawers, went out, and did his scene. I remain blown away to this day when I think about the dedication of that actor.

That night when I returned home, I checked my mail and found out that, my rent check had bounced and that my bank account was in a negative two thousand dollar deficit. I shut down filming for the next day. Funny thing is, the next day we were scheduled to shoot a jail scene with comedian Rodney Perry(of the Monique Show), Joey and Anthony, and ironically Anthony had cast himself in a cameo role as an inmate. On top of that, Joey was arrested two weeks later for something illegal with the IRS.

The devil's workshop is a busy place

On top of evil there's an innocent face

Oh, on top of evil he puts an innocent face

She was just like a spider

Only twice as smart

We tried to give Anthony a chance to make things right. He claimed that he was going to settle the payroll issue and in a few days Darryl and I would be paid. All he needed to do was cut a trailer of the movie for the distributor, and then we would have the cash to keep filming. Darryl and I were skeptical, but we kept moving forward. After we began selecting scenes for the trailer, Anthony gave one of the cameras to Darryl so he could shoot extra street footage and the Los Angeles skyline. I worked with an editor over the weekend to select the best scenes to compose an eye-catching montage. I wrote the narrative for the trailer and taped my voice-over standing in Anthony’s tub. The bathroom had become our makeshift recording studio, and it made me think of the famous “Snake Pit” at Hitsville. To create the "Motown Sound," Berry Gordy housed the recording studio in the tiny basement of the building known as Hitsville. It was nicknamed “the Snake Pit."

The real problem hanging over our heads was that the cast and crew were due wages during the second week of filming. Darryl made a phone call to the payroll company and found out that Anthony never signed a contract with them and had never made a deposit into the account. In addition, someone discovered that Anthony had written fraudulent checks to all the locations, including the nite clubs The Mint and The Bungalow Club where scenes had already been shot for the film. Demanding answers, Darryl, his director of photography, and his assistant director, met with Anthony at his home. An argument ensued and Anthony told them that if pressed any further, he was going to go get his gun. Anthony demanded his camera back and Darryl refused, so Anthony began to make threatening and harassing phone calls to Darryl after he left that night. The calls became intense, and the next night we discovered some thugs standing outside of the apartment that Darryl and I shared. We both decided it was best for us to go away ourselves for a while, and we stayed with different friends across town. Anthony filed charges against Darryl for not returning the camera, but the judge dropped the charges when Anthony never showed up to court.

I still get calls from the LAPD, asking me if I know of his whereabouts. The next time I saw him was when I turned on the Real Housewives of Atlanta. I suddenly got a chill that ran down my back. I was watching with Clarence Reynolds and we both looked at each other because no one would have believed what we were seeing. He had gone through the Tony experience with me. It was no surprise that the “party planner” was the highest rated episode of The Real Housewives. They even used the clip for the opening of the current season. It was the only thing REAL about the REAL Housewives of Atlanta.

with NeNe Leakes at the Leimert Park Book Fair

Cause what you got that'll make you lose

And then turn around and step in your shoes

I said they'll turn around And step in your shoes

So you better keep an eye on your close friend

You better watch out for your close friend

Don't trust nobody Don't trust nobody

Keep an eye on your close friend

30 Minutes Before Midnight: Hair

2010-09-12T14:07:00.000-07:00

30 Minutes Before Midnight: Hair: "I watched and cringed today when I observed the woman with the badly done weave sitting in the sauna next to me. What must be growing und..."