Stacy's Mom

Okay.... this is kind of an open letter to a patron's mother. To protect her anonymity, we'll just call her "Stacy." And this... is for Stacy's mom, who kinda hasn't got it going on. At all. No way. Let's try and change that.

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Dear Stacy's Mom:

Your daughter is a lesbian.

I know that's not news to you, because she came out to you recently: an act which took a lot of bravery, courage, strength, will, and self-control. All of which are positive things that you should congratulate her for. But the underlying qualities are just the tip of the iceberg. Stacy's a great girl. You've raised a beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, friendly daughter who is, in case you haven't seen her in a social setting, very mature and responsible for her age. A lot of girls in their 20s aren't nearly so well-behaved. As her mother, you're lucky.

Yes, you are lucky to be Stacy's mom. She has a great heart. People genuinely like her, and she repays that in kind. As her mother, you should be concerned that things have been a little rough for her lately. School is hard. She's having some financial trouble. She's thinking about leaving Nashville and coming back home to live with you. Which you're making all kinds of difficult for a stupid reason.

Stacy's a lesbian.

That lovely young woman that I'm so fond of is herself fond of other women. And that's just one small facet of her personality. An acquired fact about her like her favorite color or her preferred cologne. But moreover, it's a permanent part of her, like her eye color or her shoe size. You can't change it. All the tears, nagging and praying in the world will not make her straight.

So where is all this pressure on her to conform coming from? Why should Stacy sublimate her nature for some kind of Peyton Place idea of normalcy you've got in your head? Why would she want to turn away from what she is for the sake of "what people might say?" And more importantly, as her mother, why on earth would you want her to?

You love your daughter. I'm sure of that. Otherwise, she wouldn't even contemplate the idea of moving back home and pretending to be straight just to make you happy. That kind of sacrifice only comes from the kind of love that's being returned to the source: clearly, she loves you dearly. And I'm sure you love her.

And if you love her, you will want her happiness above all else.

So understand, madam, that by asking Stacy to return home and "play it straight," you are condemning her to a life where she has to pretend to be something she's not. You are asking her to deny her very nature, and espouse an affected, trumped-up, whitewashed version of someone else's life that is, for her, absolutely and utterly abnormal.

That's not something you do to someone you love.

If Stacy accedes to your wishes, she will come to hate the lie she lives. She will likely become very depressed. She will certainly introvert and start keeping to herself. She will exercise her sexuality in a furtive, sneaky way, regarding it ultimately with humiliation and shame. Most of all, you will make her resent your demands, and by extension, resent you.

Instead, why not focus on all the other aspects of your daughter's life. The fact that she's a great cook, or that she enjoys tennis, or that she has a passion for politics. Her being a lesbian is just one small part of her. So don't ever think of "my lesbian daughter." Just think "my daughter." And treasure her. We here at the Lipstick Lounge sure do.

I hope that you'll do what's right. Let her be herself, above all else, and give her the freedom to love whomever she chooses. Because she's going to whether you like it or not. So why not stay on her good side?

Peace,

Tom

Thank You For Being A Friend

I want to thank all my lovely friends who came out last night to help me celebrate my 40th birthday. As promised, I got drunk off your ass and everyone had a great time.

As I was talking to all my wonderful cohorts last night, it led me to remember why I love the Lipstick Lounge so much. First, everyone is welcome and accepted. My buddies included gay men, lesbians, straight folks, transgendered people, persons of every race, religion, size, economic class, educational level and political persuasion. And when we walk into the Lip, we're all the same. Just humans, enjoying each others' company.

Second, it feels like home. Despite the crowded bustle, it really is the kind of bar you'd put in your basement if you could, just a place to have all your pals over to chill.

But mostly, the owners and the staff are the greatest. They rearranged their entertainment schedule, reserved tables, and allowed me to have the time of my life, and then took care of me to make sure I got home okay. So to Jonda, Christa, Ronda and Traci, and Crystal, Hopper, Debra, Shell, Roland, Kat, Britt and Julie: thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me the best birthday ever. What a great way to start what promises to be a fantastic decade! As we always say: "I love your ass!"

Peace to you all.

Tom

Full of Bull: A Horoscope for Everyone

Hi kids! The Sun crossed into Taurus today, which means MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP THIS WEEKEND. For those of you who haven't heard, I will be forty this Saturday, and I am, natch, celebrating with a karaoke party at the Lip. Debra will be hosting, I will be drunk off my ass, and if you sing karaoke, I might just jump up on stage with you, 'coz I'm a whore like that. You are personally invited, as are all your friends, your whole fam-damily, your greasy-ass granny, all your ancestors and your whole generation. And everyone else I love.

Since Taurus is the sign that rules materialism, you should immediately go out and buy yourself something nice. And not another one of those damn Abercrombie T-shirts (get a clue, clone), I mean something unusual. Taurus is a home-oriented sign, so here are my top three ideas: 1) a set of three hand-carved, custom-painted returning boomerangs for use as a lovely wall display, or for killing those pesky kangaroos; 2) a set of heart-shaped measuring spoons for putting a little lovin' in the oven and reminding your significant other of your heart-shaped ass; or 3) a divine little desk clock shaped like a Lhasa Apso to display the time in your home. Woof!

Astrologically, Taurus is the sign that governs the arts, so if you haven't landed your recording contract yet, this is probably the month it will happen. One thing though: you will have to modify your image, cowtow to popular tastes, dumb down your message, and betray your artistic integrity to reach a larger audience. Don't think of it as selling out, just think of it as selling, and be glad you're getting a check.

Brainy Mercury moves into Taurus right behind the Sun on May 5th, which means that all of a sudden, for the first time in a while, you'll be able to walk and chew gum at the same time. You go, girl!

Venus, the planet of lurve, moves into Aries, the sign of self and strife, on May 3rd, so kiss your love life goodbye. Make sure you get a lot of emotional bonding in before that date, since after that, all you'll have time for is meaningless sex. After the 3rd, your best chance for a romantic encounter is a tossup between a quickie in the self-help aisle at Borders on West End on May 14th between 7pm and closing time or up against the dumpster behind the Family Wash with a creepy homeless woman at 3:42 AM on May 16th. Until the 3rd, you should be good to go right in your own bedroom.

The other planets in the Zodiac are clicking along with not much happening, so you'll probably get bored fast. Try Sudoku to pass the time.

One last piece of advice, and it's only because I care: You really do have enough Abercrombie. I swear to God. Give it a damn rest.

Enjoy yourself! It's a weekend at the Lip. Ronda and Jonda are on a week's sabatical (Taurus fuctup their throats, he's a bitch like that), so Two Chix and a Drum are here Friday. Karaoke for my birthday Saturday. Lindsey Hinkle and Treva Bloomquist on Sunday.

I'll see you in the Lounge. Peace.

Tom

Monday Closure

We gave it our best try. We really did. Naughty Bingo played out quick. Trivia contest attempts on Monday nights sucked. We brought Debra back in for karaoke. Zippo. Tasha Valentine busted her ass and sang like the pro she is, with a band, with a free cover, and that didn't ignite the way we needed it to. So the Lip is closing on Mondays until further notice.

Reactions from our clientele have been mixed. So far, here are the best ones:

1. Mr. Richard Feder of Fort Lee, New Jersey writes: "Dear Roseanne Rosannadanna: The Lipstick Lounge is closed on Mondays. Now, I'm depressed, I gained weight, my face broke out, I'm nauseous, I'm constipated, my feet swelled, my gums are bleedin', my sinuses are clogged, I got heartburn, I'm cranky and I have gas. ... What should I do?" Mr. Feder, you sound like a real attractive guy! You belong in New Jersey!-- Oh wait. I'm not Roseanne Rosannadanna. Sorry. But that would have been fun, it was a monologue that ends with a sweat ball hanging off the end of Dr. Joyce Brothers' nose.

2. Ms. Lou York, Lou York, speaking on behalf of a metropolis of 9 million people inquired: "What am I supposed to do on Monday nights when I want to see Tasha?" Well, you could call her, or visit her on MySpace. She's one of our friends, check it out using the link to the right of this blog entry.

3. My daughter, Jenny, asked: "Daddy, what are you going to do? I'm worried about you. You're in the Lipstick every time the doors are open, and now I fear that you'll spend Monday nights wandering the streets of East Nashville like a derelict, looking in people's windows and making a nuisance of yourself." A justified concern, my dear, a justified concern. It would bring a whole new meaning to "Peeping Tom."

4. Laurel & Lamb, erstwhile hosts of Naughty Bingo and now just general funsters, exchanged: "Well, that's a shame. But it's Tuesday, so who gives a fig. Let's get another cocktail." Quite right. Might I suggest the Kiwi-Strawberry Martini? They'll be $5 on Wednesday.

5. Roland, our cook and barback, threw his arms over his head, and thrashed about as though he were having a convulsion. When asked why he was behaving so, he answered, "I always dance when I am in mourning." Of course he does. It should have been obvious.

6. Several of our die-hard karaoke whores were saddened when we dropped karaoke on Mondays, since low attendance makes for a short rotation, and they can sing more often. To them, we say, "Come back Wednesday."

7. My wife asked, "So does this mean you'll be staying at home on Mondays?" Hell, no, I'll probably be at DeVil's.

8. Tasha Valentine could not be reached for comment, 'coz she's out of town for like, two months. So even if we had stayed open, we'd have just had to sit here and look at each other and grimace, for we would not be enlightened by the song stylings of our favorite postmodern blues nightingale, nor would we have been able to bask in the radiance of her serene beauty.

9. Christa, who made the decision to pull the plug, said simply, "Pull the plug."

10. Everyone else, including our valued patrons the rest of the week, asked, puzzled: The Lipstick Lounge was open on Mondays? Who knew?" Evidently, not many.

Keep this from happening other nights of the week! Get your happy asses down here and make us the center of your social calendar, the focus of your fun, the nexus of your very existence! Drink up! Twelve-step programs are for quitters!

See you very soon at the Lip... just not on Mondays.

Peace,

Tom

Ain't A Thing But A Chicken Wing

Shame on you for not being at the Lip last night. It was our usual packed-ass Thursday, people having to lube up to get through the crowd. So, enough chastisement. Here's what you missed:

1. First, congrats to "The Potentially Winning Team" of Crystal and Leanne, who came from behind in our Movie Trivia contest to win and fulfill their destiny. I was particularly impressed that they got it on a movie from 1982, since their parents were in high school then, which means, as far as they are concerned, it might has well have been a cave painting. They're just a couple of kids, and they give me shit for being old, but I love 'em! Hats off! Remember we do Movie Trivia every Thursday, and Music Trivia on Tuesdays.

2. LaRonda and Elizabeth were so kind, and sent us dinner from Rafferty's. The most flaky and delicious salmon ever, and yummy vegetables. Fantastic salads too. How great are they? We love them crazy. Plus, Liz raps her ass off. I will forever be her bitch, and LaRonda is so going to be my fourth wife. They wound up getting into a tiff over a chicken wing, but trust me... that chicken ain't flyin' anywhere, so y'all just chill out.

3. Jade kicked everybody's ass singing karaoke. She claims not to have a good voice, but I tell ya what: she's awesome. I'd rather listen to her sing "Marie Levaux" or "Centerfold" or "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" than some diva bitch up there cracking my eardrums with an overblown, oversung, overshouted opera aria. She wins the crowd-pleaser award. So there. You sing it, girl!

4. Poker is coming! We're going to begin playing Texas Hold 'Em at 7 PM on Wednesdays with the Middle Tennessee Poker League. So ante up. Plus, it's $5 martini night, so make sure your inner queen is ready to go wild!

5. Randy was in fine form, dancing his ass off. We love him too.

6. Lori Bob is headed to the mountains for a little while. We'll miss her.

7. Matt made Diva Dogpuss at those who deserve it. See the previous blog for details.

8. Beth was visiting for Florida, and I sang her favorite song for her, "Modern Love" by David Bowie. Thanks to Michael for bringing them in.

Tonight, it's Ronda & Jonda. Karaoke again tomorrow, and Sunday it will be the big Cathey Stamps Birthday Bash. Y'all come see us at the Lip!

Peace,

Tom

Diva Dogpuss

I promised everyone an entry on Diva Dogpuss. Here it is. I've been talking about it and doing it since I learned about it from its inventor, Matt. He and his good buddy Greg (who is performing in Vegas right now) came into Lipstick one night and showed it off.

So what is Diva Dogpuss? I'm so glad you asked.

Have you ever seen somebody do something they're really proud of? I mean, they are tickled. You, on the other hand, having seen it, are mortified. Because the whammy that they perpetrated was at best, tragic. They're riding high, whereas you are feeling the shame that, if they had any sense, common decency or self-respect, they would feel.

You like this person. You wouldn't want to hurt them, so you try to be nice. But the embarrassment level of their actions has made it uncomfortable-- nay, painful-- to be nice about it. So an expression suddenly washes over your face.

This expression shows the world the delicious tension of mixed emotion that you are feeling. It combines the thoughts of "God bless 'em!" with "Oh for Christ's sake!"

This expression has a name: Diva Dogpuss.

A picture's worth a thousand words, but this is a blog. I'll post a photo of folks making this face when I figure out how. Anyway, when you see me next, ask me to show you Diva Dogpuss. Once you've seen it, please display it proudly and share it with your poor jackass friends who do crazy embarrassing shit and then act like it's all good.

Examples of when Diva Dogpuss is appropriate:

* Your slutty 42-year-old cousin Darlene has announced she's getting married in a white dress.
* Your little nephew has just proudly shared that he doesn't eat boogers.... anymore.
* Your roommate is all excited about her new Cricket phone.
* I sang "If I Could Turn Back Time" by Cher for karaoke and only screwed up the key change.
* Your friend Binkie says she and her ex are getting back together as soon her ex as she gets out of jail.
* Your buddy Claude brags that he slept with a movie star-- and that it was worth getting crabs.

Seriously, it's the best expression ever! Thanks to Matt and Greg for sharing Diva Dogpuss with the world!

See ya at the Lip!

Tom