When I was 9 I took my parents' album of the Broadway musical Damn Yankees and memorized every syllable of Gwen Verdon's show stopper, "Who's Got the Pain When They Do the Mambo?" Once I was satisfied with my lip synching and choreography, the number was ready for public display.
Drag is more than entertainment, more than bookings, more than staying on top; it's a doorway to acceptance. Drag teaches us to be true to ourselves and accept others for who they are. If more parents took their children to all-ages drag shows, they would grow up more accepting and loving.
What is that, you may ask? Well, it's when someone in the audience, mainly gay men, but sometimes women, and on rare occasions straight men, begins performing to the drag queen's number like all eyes are on them. I find it extremely humorous.
I've often wondered, Why my fascination with drag queens? When did it begin? And that morning it hit me: My fascination began in 1977, when I removed the Charlie's Angels posters from my bedroom walls and joined the KISS Army.