Many episodes ofThe Golden Girlscentered around secret-keeping just as many episodes centered around being gay. In many ways, the show was way ahead of its time with sensitive issues that society was grappling with and wished to ignore. Almost as if the creators were intentionally trying to make up for cutting Coco.
I pull on my tunic and watch my friends get into character with my trademark Dorothy side-eye.
Ron teases his white Rose wig, which does not look that different from his real hair. He picks and sprays, over and over—though a hair on his wig would not move in a Florida hurricane—using a can of old-school Aqua Net, our dressing room turning as foggy as a London winter’s night.
I remain incensed at Ron. He is kind to a fault, and I know that will never change, but his acquiescence to Trudy’s arrival and kindness to her have flummoxed me. Why is he being sosweet to a woman whose cruelty and rejection not only shaped my existence but nearly ended it? What kind of friend is that?
I watch Sid straighten his gray wig and adjust the collar of his sweater as he transforms into Sophia.
Sid seems distanced lately, and yet he has not disclosed—as he and Sophia would have in the past—exactly what is going on in his life via his typical nonsensical babble. In fact, he has been MIA of late and has already told us he will miss Church of Mary this week to have brunch with Leo. He also told us that Leo wants to speak with us. Is Sid pregnant? I mean, what in the wild, wild world of gay sports is going on there?
Barry adds another layer of lipstick. Blanche has a signature lip: an undercoat of gold glimmer with a bright pop of party red over it.
It always baffled me that Blanche had the most difficulty with her brother, given that she was the character most gay men identified with. She owned her sexuality, slept around without any remorse or regret, and did not let age diminish her fierceness. She dressed provocatively, she flirted and she didn’t care what people thought of her.
Barry and I are probably the closest to our counterparts in both look and demeanor. Barry got a firsthand look at the makeup the ladies used and has tried to help us over the years. But has all of this—this show, living with his BFFs—helped him or hindered him? Our Palm Springs man magnet has not only been MIA of late as well, but his late-night boy toy rendezvous have stopped. Is it because we have company? Or does he have a secret, too?
And yet I cannot judge as I may be hiding the biggest secret of all. I’ve kept it from my friends because I did not want to burden them.
Or is it simply because I’m scared? Teddy? Scared? I never would have pegged myself as a run-away-from-a-fight type of guy, but I’m actually scared.
To die.
For this show to end.
There is a knock on the door.
“Five minutes to curtain!”
The voice of Bette Davis pops into my head, as it does many a gay man my age:
“Fasten your seat belts, fellas, it’s going to be a bumpy night!”
I give myself a final once-over and stalk from our dressing room onto the back of the stage.
I peek through the curtain.
Ava and Trudy are seated in the front row. It takes me a second to recognize Trudy. I’ve been avoiding her, and she has been avoiding me. But her new hairstyle is shockingly youthful. Her outfit is updated. Ron appears backstage.
Someone has been playing Dolly Levi, I see.
I watch Trudy attempt to talk to Ava, who remains glued to her cell. I’m confident Ava will either pass out or storm out when she is informed by the announcer that all cell phones must be silenced and not in use during the performance.
Barry and Sid join us on stage.
The set is divided in two by a wall with a door. It looks exactly like the living room and kitchen of the ladies’ home in Miami, down to the bamboo sofa, floral cushions and linoleum.
We move into position. Patty O’Furniture greets the sold-out audience and informs them to silence their phones. I can hear Ava groan.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Patty says. “The Golden Gays!”
The curtains open, and our little show begins.
I glance at Trudy and Ava as the scenes progress. Trudy’s face remains stoic. Ava is laser-focused on me for much of the performance. On occasion, she looks over at her grandmother to gauge her reaction.
Finally, it comes time for a scene between me and Sid.
“What’s wrong, Ma?” I ask.
