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Scene: Triangle Cities

When I moved to Durham, N.C., nine years ago, my family and friends worried I’d be in a place where everyone’s named Bubba and drives a pickup with a loaded gun rack. And while I was tempted to retort, “No, that would be Arizona” (where I was moving from – kidding! I’m kidding!), I was a little concerned, too.

Yeah, they were the ones who elected Helms over and over again (and everyone’s really sorry) but I soon discovered there’s a thriving queer culture here and they don’t even make you eat grits. Not only that, but as a touring singer-songwriter, it was a great home base, allowing me to tour the East Coast and Midwest on a regular basis. With the great job my girlfriend snagged, it was a perfect place to settle in and call home.

Trianglegrrrls.com is the place to check if you want to connect with other lesbian and bi women in the area, but to find out more, I attended four events over a month’s time this summer. Oh, the sacrifices I make for y’all.

Scene 1: North Carolina Women’s Jam Fest

Edgecombe County Fairgrounds, Rocky Mount, N.C.

July 26, 2008

If your kind of women’s music festival includes goddess chants and drumming workshops, stay home. If you want a good party, then grab your girlfriend and a couple of six packs and c’mon out. That’s how it started, in 1994, as a party at a private home, but it got so large, they moved it. Every year it’s a benefit for an organization. This year’s proceeds went to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.

After getting off the interstate, I felt a clench in the pit of my stomach. What am I doing in rural by-God North Carolina alone in a truck with a rainbow sticker? As I pulled into the grassy parking lot, my mind eased a bit ’cause there were several lines of pickups and Subarus sporting various discreet rainbow items. I was going to be OK.

Katy Perry’s “I Kissed A Girl” was blaring from the sound system as I checked in with the friendly women at the gate. While I’m real happy Katy kissed a girl, I don’t care about her boyfriend. (As many times as I’ve heard it at queer events, I’m wondering if anyone has really listened to this song. I’d rather have the Jill Sobule song of the same title be our anthem.)

I sauntered past a raucous volleyball game fueled by beer. A lot of the festival seemed to be powered by the magic juice, but hey, it’s a party. (I saw lots of soda too so no worries if alcohol isn’t a part of your good-time experience.)

At one end of the field was a small stage, and clustered around it, canopies covering lawn chairs, ice chests and about 150 smiling women. My nervousness about being there alone quickly evaporated within the first few seconds as women approached me with hugs and beer. Granted, some of them knew me in my other life as a musician but many were just showing a little Southern hospitality.

A small food trailer at the other end of the field offered basic fare like burgers, fries and kick-ass homemade lemonade.

The country fairground trappings were hysterical dropped into a big queer party with signs proclaiming “Church of Christ” and “Livestock Arena.”

Soon, the recorded music stopped and a couple of Richmond, Va., singer-songwriters, Kristin Ford and Andy Moore, each did a set. Their soulful songs should’ve garnered more attention, but women were busy grilling dinner and talking with their friends. I’m sure they appreciated the live music, it just wasn’t the focus.

Andy Moore performs

Toward nightfall, Wicked Jezebel took the stage. Hailing from the D.C. area and together for four years, they’re a damn good time, with covers ranging from Cher to Amy Winehouse. Guitarist Pauline Anson-Dross was no slouch when it came to ripping out those signature riffs, and I loved her Cher impression.

Wicked Jezebel

The others were great too, including Davi Anson-Dross’s versatile vocals (and a wardrobe to kill for – I so want those pants with all the zippers), Gwen Frederick’s explosive drums, Ginger Starling’s rock-steady keyboards and Mickey Dehn’s rumbling bass. Pauline and Davi took turns with most of the lead vocals but they traded with the others for a few songs. Mickey took center stage for a sexy version of “I Love Rock and Roll.” It took a few songs for the crowd to warm up, but when they did we packed in close. There’s nothing like being mashed in with a pack of sweaty, happy queer girls.

At one point yours truly was invited on stage to shake some booty. I’m a belly dancer so I prefer something with finger cymbals, but hey, I made it work with a rap tune.

The band could’ve sold piles of CDs but they don’t have one yet, so for the drive home I had to be happy with the party tunes still reverberating in my head. That’s OK, radio in rural North Carolina can be boring and I’d much rather listen to “Cher.”

Scene 2: 13th Annual North Carolina Gay and Lesbian Film Festival

The Carolina Theatre, Durham, N.C.

Aug. 14-17

The evening started with dinner at El Rodeo in Brightleaf Square, just a few blocks from the theater. The outdoor patio was perfect for watching the sisters, and I don’t mean the Olsens.

This is the second-largest queer film festival in the Southeast so I wasn’t surprised to see a lot of rainbow stickers in the parking garage. A member of the programming committee told me they’d sold about 10,000 tickets. I don’t claim to have exemplary math skills (I’m a musician and a writer, cut me some slack) but I figure if everyone saw two or three movies, that would mean that 4,000 people attended. That’s a lot of Subarus. The venue itself is a lovely renovated building with three theaters. The largest, Fletcher, seats about 1,000 while the two smaller ones seat 276 and 76.

My friends and I arrived a few minutes before The World Unseen. Fletcher was packed with women of all ages. (Not quite a sellout, but close.) Set in 1950s South Africa, the movie featured some wonderful characters. I loved how every nuance was caught; we were an audience quick to laugh, and at one point, moan “oh no” when a man happens upon the two woman lovers. As the closing credits rolled, the room exploded in applause. That was true for every film I attended.

Lisa Ray and Sheetal Sheth in The World Unseen

Queers were everywhere! Even a trip to the restroom was fun. While waiting in the long line, I exclaimed, “What a great place to pick up chicks!” and everyone laughed.

Next, I crammed into the smallest theater to see a series of shorts titled Mrs. Johnson Wore Her Miniskirt Into the Room. I’m guessing the theme was gutsy women. I liked them all, but I absolutely loved Just Me?, about a woman’s discovery that her grandmother, now gone, was a lesbian. Its poignant photos and well-written voice-over had several in the audience, including me, dabbing at their eyes.

Others included Kristy, about a tomboy who can’t give up her favorite T-shirt; Long Ago, about a heinous hairdo that won’t go away until the demons from a past relationship are exorcised; and No Bikini, the story of a young girl who passed for a boy at swim class one summer.

A scene from No Bikini

I didn’t love Tokens, about Mormonism and being queer, but I don’t usually go for experimental films. The series ended with the disturbing Congratulations, Daisy Graham. I woke up the next morning still haunted by the ending.

A scene from Congratulations Daisy Graham

Afterward, I joined a couple of friends. We all loved Just Me?, and reminisced about older generations in our own families who we suspected were gay. I wrote a song about my great aunt Bernadine and her longtime companion Loretta and it was them who came to mind as I watched the movie. Despite poring over phone books and sending many letters, I never found Loretta. (If anyone knows Loretta OShay who lived in Chicago and Florida, I would love to hear from you.)

I wandered around the community resources area before leaving. I like that they include other organizations, truly making this a community event and not just one done for profit.

The following day I attended a Sunday afternoon matinee of Tru Loved. We were surprised that the main floor of Fletcher was almost full. Unfortunately, the balcony was closed. Too bad, because it would have offered a couple hundred more seats.

The film stood head and shoulders above the other offerings. With well-rounded characters, stellar acting and an entertaining (but believable) plot, it told the story of Tru, a teenage girl with gay parents. She’s not real happy to be thrown into conservative suburbia but through the friendly Lo, she discovers that maybe those stuck-up kids aren’t so bad after all. There are plenty of actors from TV and movies, like Nichelle Nichols (Uhura from the original Star Trek), who provides some of the movie’s funniest lines.

I loved that the viewing crowd for this one was the most diverse I’d seen so far, probably because the characters included a mix of genders as well as races. Most of the other movies I attended featured a lot of white women in the audience, with just a smattering of blacks; it felt unusual in this city where blacks are about 40 percent of the population. I’ve found that true for many events I’ve attended here. (I contacted Seven Sisters, a social group for African-American lesbians, but because of work commitments I couldn’t go to any of their events, which were mostly scheduled at Club Blue Steel [see next page]).

Last, I attended another group of shorts, Eve and That Damned Apple. Again, I liked all of them, although a few were less than professional. All were over-the-top comedies that got laughs – Jersey Dyke, Weimer House, Human Potential, The Vicious and the Delicious and Members Only. I can still quote parts of Jersey Dyke so that was the one I’d give the most stars. I went home to perfect her sneer.

Scene 3: Club Steel Blue Anniversary Bash with Queer Queens of Qomedy: Poppy Champlin, Bridget McManus and Sandra Valls

Club Steel Blue, Durham, N.C.

Aug. 22

Photo credit: Cortney Berben

Even though it’s been voted best lesbian bar in the Triangle, I had yet to visit so I figured I’d better get my big queer hiny over to check it out. What better time to do that than for their one-year anniversary?

The club is on a major street with a big, well-lit parking lot. Unlike some queer clubs, it’s in a nice part of town. (I so hate it when I pull up to a bar alone and there are crack dealers lurking in the shadows, you know?)

The roof is a couple of stories high with no second floor except for balconies inside. The high ceiling in the middle really gives it a spacious feel and I wonder if it helped dispel any smoke at the ground floor. (Even though there were a fair amount of smokers, it wasn’t smoky at all.) The stage sat at one end of a dance floor filled with rows of chairs. Lots of women, most in their 20s and 30s, and a few men, were at the bar and waiting in the chairs.

Right around the start time, a booming voice came from above. No, not God, just the owner, Diane, in the DJ booth, telling us the show would start late. (Can I say how adorable she looked in that cowboy hat?) Soon after, music cranked up and Poppy took the stage. Hailing from L.A. and a regular performer in Provincetown and at Dinah Shore, she was a polished emcee for the evening and also did her own comedy. Who knew she could do a dead-on loon imitation? She also talked about workshops at the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival (Make your own sex toys with twigs, anyone?) and snoring, with great sound effects. She’s a gifted mimic.

Bridget was up next, starting her set with a little booty shakin’. She went on so long about wanting to kill anyone who looked at her girlfriend (it’s comedy, people) that I started checking the stage for sharp objects. She touched on other topics including Halloween costumes and wanting to be a rapper. I found it distracting that she constantly tugged at her shirt and ran her fingers through her hair.

I loved Sandra’s bit about being MUI (surfing MySpace Under the Influence). Imitating the guy at a fast-food drive-through had me howling with laughter. I thought the woman behind me was going to need oxygen. And her Stevie Nicks impression was hilarious. Let’s just say you don’t want Vall’s Stevie singing to you while you’re, um, in a delicate position with your girlfriend. (I’d say more but I’m trying to keep this PG so work with me, people.)

A couple of them slammed the Michigan festival (although the workshop bit was hilarious) and while there were clusters of women laughing at that one, some of us were quiet. Likewise for the joke about incest, the ones about throwing up and a too-long bit about driving while drunk. Maybe I needed a few more beers to get those. (No amount of alcohol would make me even giggle at incest, though. It’s akin to telling a hurricane joke to a roomful of Katrina survivors.)

The evening was plagued with mike problems – not little squeals of feedback but giant sonic-boom-sized farts – and it especially squashed a musical finale.

After the show, the chairs were quickly removed while DJ LV cranked up “I Kissed A Girl.” (What? Is this now the Lesbian National Anthem? Can I choose something else?) Several couples made use of the dance floor.

DJ LV

Photo credit: Cortney Berben

I ran into a friend who told me more about the bar. I made a mental note to come on the non-smoking ’80s night – even though there wasn’t a smoke problem, I just happen to dig ’80s music – and also to hear local band Someone’s Sister. I would’ve joined the dancers but it was almost midnight and for this older fart, that’s pretty late. “Billie Jean” provided my exit music.

Scene 4: SWOOP’s Pigfest and Silent Auction

Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, Raleigh, N.C.

Aug. 23

SWOOP (Strong Women Organizing Outrageous Projects) began in 1996 when a group of women helped each other clean up after a hurricane. They enjoyed it so much, they started doing other projects. From those first 16 women, the group has grown to more than 500 who have done 80-some projects for organizations and at individual homes, from painting to light construction. Even though I’m dangerous with tools, they’ve graciously given me a paint brush at a couple of their work days. Not only do I get the satisfaction of helping someone, but it’s a great way to get to know women. Do I need to even mention all the yummy women in tool belts?

I was happy to attend their fundraising event. A line of women waited at the will-call table, but it didn’t take long to get my ticket and scoot my hungry self into the buffet line. I helped myself to a few steaming spoonfuls of pulled pork, some crispy coleslaw, hush puppies (cornmeal cooked in hot oil) and fried chicken. There was a vegetarian option too. At the end of the table sat icy cups of lemonade and tea. A nearby table offered beer and wine for sale.

The crowded room was hopping, filled mostly with women, a few men and their kids. It seemed like an older crowd than at last night’s bar. I plopped my happy butt down at a table just as the woman next to me was talking about her Baptist church. Uh oh. No worries, though, as the conversation moved on to other topics like how many power tools can a woman own and how many purses does a femme really need? (Do I count the tools in my nightstand? And really, can a girl have too many purses?)

The Tims Bluegrass Band, a local group started by stand-up bass player Dell Tims and banjo player Ray Tims (with Jeff Aebi on mandolin and Tim Herron on guitar) provided some great background tunes. As they blazed through “Old Joe Clark” and “Rocky Top,” I looked at the auction items on the tables lining the room. Holy smoke, it made me want to cash in my savings. From a gift certificate for a stay at the Highlands Inn to a damn fine motorcycle jacket, it was hard to choose. I was tempted by the Ben and Jerry’s certificate (oh to have a dozen cartons of Chunky Monkey in my freezer) but, no, I must be practical, so I bid on a massage. (I didn’t get it. That’ll teach me.)

It took me more than an hour to get around the room because I kept stopping to talk with people, from one of my former guitar students (there with his wife and kid), to my lesbian doctor.

As the crowd thinned and the band wrapped up, I saw three women sitting on a bench just outside the front door. Two of them were still clutching their drinks as I joked that they looked like they were waiting for a bus. The third woman wanted me to tell you all that she was single and to mention her phone number, but nevermind. All she has to do is go to the next work project and tie on a tool belt and she’ll be just fine.

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