Last Saturday we stopped by our neighborhood gay bar, Starlight, and were treated by a pair of celebrity sightings. First, we spotted Alan Cumming in the back room, sporting his “Threepenny Opera” mohawk. As usual, he was surrounded by boys.
But what was more surprising was the appearance of the 52-year-old Cyndi Lauper, who made her way slowly through the crowd to the back, making eye contact with as many gays as possible – as if to say “Yes, this IS Cyndi Lauper that you’re looking at.” Either that or “I see your true colors.” It was subtle.
We remarked to our drinking companions that it reminded us of the scene in “Soapdish” when the Sally Field character goes to the mall in Pyramus, NJ, when she’s feeling down and out, because all of the housewives over there still adore her. If you were an aging diva having an off night, wouldn’t YOU go to a gay bar, the last place you were still loved, where you would be showered with unmitigated adulation?
It’s kind of like when Ricky Martin plays in Canada. Or when George Bush appears on Fox News.