#sunday discotheque

[harrisonarchive]

Arthur Kelly and George Harrison, 1959; scanned from The Beatles: The Authorized Biography.

“Arthur Kelly and I have been friends since we were about twelve. We went to school [Liverpool Institute] together, and even then he was quite hip. The funniest result of my friendship with Arthur is that Sybil Burton’s discotheque club Arthur is named after him although she didn’t realize it at the time. The whole thing started when I was asked at an American Press conference: ‘What do you call your haircut?’ I just said: ‘I call it Arthur’ because I knew this bloke, Arthur. Then the club was named after my haircut Arthur, which was named after this friend of mine! Arthur comes to stay at my house sometimes. I like him because he’s not a drag. But some of the people I used to know are a bit funny now. I just have to say, ‘How’s it going then?’ and they start going off about ‘Well there’s no need to ask you how YOU’RE getting on.’ Arthur’s not like that.” - George Harrison, Sunday Mirror, December 19, 1965

“‘One day George came home and said he’d got an audition, at the British Legion Club in Speke,’ says Mrs. Harrison. ‘I told him he must be daft. He hadn’t even got a group. He said don’t worry, he’d get one.’ George did get a group for his big night at the Speke British Legion. He got his brother Peter on guitar, his friend Arthur Kelly on guitar and two others, one of tea chest and another on a mouth organ. He himself was on guitar. They all left the house one by one, ducking down behind the hedge. George didn’t want all the nosy neighbors to know what they were doing. They [calling themselves The Rebels] got to the hall and found that the real artist hadn’t turned up. They had to go straight on and play all night as there was no one else there.” - The Beatles: The Authorized Biography (1968)

“We did stay friends for a long time. He tried to help me get an acting job when I first went down to the Smoke and he would always come and see me even after they became famous. It was my fault we lost touch because I started to feel a bit alienated by all the famous faces he’d introduce me to when I went to see him. In the end, I felt it must be a bit of a drag for him to have to tout me around.” - Arthur Kelly, Liverpool Echo, October 9, 1982 (x)

[dcbbw]

Sneak Peek Sunday

Hoppy Easter to all the Tumblrs that celebrate! 

I am behind on a ton of deadlines posting-wise. I’m just dealing with a LOT: medical issues, legal issues, family drama, and hot-ass messiness at work. I’m also pondering my future on tumblr, but for now I do have at least 4 more fics that I intend to write, and post here: an MC lunch ask, #KLAW submission, @bebepac​’s birthday fic, and possibly a Drake-centric fic inspired by a song (or two) currently on repeat in my Spotify.

All of that is to say I DO have something to share: snippets from two fics that WILL be posted this week: my submission for Maxwell Beaumont’s birthday appreciation and my Luck of the Draw fic.

Snippets are below the cut, and a little longer than six sentences as I only have two entries this time around. As always everything is in a state of rough draft; final versions may vary.

Birthday Boy

Once again, it’s my birthday. A milestone one: The big 3-5.

I remember when I thought 35 was old.

I’m celebrating at the Great House that belongs to the duchy King Liam bestowed upon my wife. I’m celebrating with family, friends, and members of Cordonian Court. How I’m greeted lets me know which category a person falls into.

The East Ballroom has been transformed from cold marble and stiff curtains into a discotheque, complete with sequined balls suspended from the ceiling, a DJ, and a dance floor with color-lit tiles. At the moment, the children of Court are playing hopscotch on it while the adults partake of the buffet tables and open bars.

As I make my way through the throng, I grin, shake hands, and thank people for coming. I see my children in my peripheral vision and feel my heart swell to near bursting; my daughter is the spit and image of her namesake, Annabelle. My mother. Her tobacco-colored ringlets bounce as she skips over squares colored green, blue, red, purple. Her sapphire-blue eyes squint in concentration, and her plump lips part as she emits laughs and squeals.  

Her brother Dimitri, two years younger, follows behind her as he clumsily mimics her movements while yelling it’s his turn. He has dark hair and brown eyes like his mother, but he gets his personality from me.

I press forward, my wife now in my sights. Her dark hair is in an upsweep knot, and her cream-colored gown flows over her body. I pause to take her in and marvel at how far she’s advanced since Social Season. She’s no longer coarse and rough-edged; now she’s polished and cultured.

Sometimes.

She’s talking to the King and Queen, and I can tell from her posture the conversation is either agitating or exciting her. Her hands are gesticulating wildly; I already know words are tumbling from her lips as if they were balls being lobbed from a machine.

The King’s eyes roll in amusement while my wife talks; I assume it’s excitement that has my partner so animated. Liam tugs his Queen closer to him just as Crown Princess Eleanor tugs at her mother’s dress and pulls the monarchs’ attention.

As I draw closer to the trio, I wonder for the zillionth time how she’s with me.

After all, she came to Cordonia for Liam.

She stays in Cordonia because of Liam.

Three Blind Mice (LotD, Chapter 6 of The Commoner’s Wife)

“I appreciate your obvious…. attraction to me, Your Highness, but my heart and affections have been claimed by another.”

“You mean your best friend’s wife? Listen to me, Your Majesty….no royal or noble worth their salt will accept a divorced commoner as Queen. Your court will be the laughingstock of Europe and you…. you’ll be the biggest scandal since King Edward VIII. At least he was lucky enough to choose love over Crown, but you don’t have that luxury, do you? Your brother beat you to it.”

“What I do with my personal life, especially when it takes place in Cordonia, is no one’s business but mine. And if you wish our countries to remain in good standing, you will stop talking,” Liam growled.

“Even when it involves fucking other men’s wives?” Marguerite arched an eyebrow.

She lowered it when Liam’s eyes narrowed dangerously. The Princess still needed to make an advantageous match; Liam was the best of the lot. When she spoke again, her tone was more conciliatory.

“Darling, I’m offering you not only a union, but an alliance … a chance to rule over two countries, not just one. We don’t need to be in love and arrangements can be put in place, but only one of us can be scandalous, and I’ve already claimed dibs on that.”

The Princess smiled brightly before downing the remainder of her beverage. She looked around the room before setting the champagne flute on the table in front of her and gathering her purse.

“I’m sure the three of you have much to discuss; I’ll see myself out,” she spoke to everyone and no one.

She began rummaging inside her bag, murmuring to Liam that he could email her a non-disclosure agreement. “As juicy as this morning has been, I wouldn’t tell anyone; however, I understand the need for assurance.”

Marguerite rose, a plastic keycard between her fingers which she offered to Drake.

“Retaliation fucks can be most satisfying. I have a standing room at the Savoy Five Kingdoms. They have an excellent bar and even better room service. Drop by anytime today; I fly out in the morning.”

Riley’s face was dark with anger; her eyes held a flicker of fear.

Liam’s head fell into his open palms.

Drake stared blankly at the key before raising his eyes to the monarch of Monaco.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

Marguerite looked puzzled as she tucked the key into his jacket’s breast pocket.

“That’s the entire purpose, darling.”

Tagging: @jared2612​ @ao719​ @marietrinmimi​ @queenjilian​ @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @mom2000aggie​ @liamrhysstalker2020​ @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​ @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @queenrileyrose​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaquarius111​ @motorcitymademadame​ @queenmiarys​ @choicesficwriterscreations​

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

Just realized that it is now I who am the noisy neighbor at ass o’clock on a Sunday morning, and I’m tired as shit and still hate painting with the fire of ten thousand suns, but there’s a little bit of petty vengeance to be had on Leafblower McGee two doors down and the Neighborhood Discotheque on the other side of the fence.

[lonita]

U2 in review

Finally, after many years of waiting (too many, I think), I got to see U2. That was the main reason for going to Montreal; seeing the city came barely a close second! (That's sarcasm.) I say too many years for a couple of reasons; one because it's not fun to wait for anything, and two because Bono's voice isn't what it used to be. I'm guessing his vocal cords will be shot by the end of the week. Apparently he can't do arena shows anymore, so that's why this tour is smaller stadiums. His voice can't take the straing, and it's showing, unfortunately. Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful show, and I'm very happy I finally got to see them live.

The thing that made me happiest is that they did my favourite song, Bad; and apparently he's been botching it a bit during other parts of the tour. He didn't that night. It was wonderful. The show was a mix of the new album and some old songs, but not many songs pre-Achtung Baby; though they did do Sunday Bloody Sunday which surprised a lot of people. The show itself starts off with the song Elevation with full house lights on. That's a very very unusual thing. I don't think I've ever heard of a band doing that before.

The stage has a heart-shaped catwalk extending from it, and some of the lucky folks who had general admission floors, were allowed inside the the heart shape. We had decent seats for being behind the band; at the centre of the heart but in the 200 level. It was a very nice view of the whole heart. The heart had lights surrounding it on the inner and outer edges. Bono and The Edge would walk around it occasionally. The evening started off in fear, truth be told, because the sound at the back during PJ Harvey's set was horrible. We were afraid it would be that way all night. As it turns out, part of the problem was sound bouncing off the back walls and reverbing, and the lack of people. Once the place filled up it was better. The other problem, as it turns out, was that PJ's amp was shot. It blew out half way through her set. Once the place was full and U2 took the stage, things were good. Below is a crappily drawn picture of the stage. The band was set up in the black area inside the heart, and in the black area above the heart were an arced row of pixel boards that came up occasionally during the show either showing psychedelic colour patterns, or a James Bond style girl silhouette that Bono would dance with. They were used for other displays also, but very minimally. That was the whole tour in a nutshell; minimal. They wanted to do a straight-ahead rock'n'roll concert, and that's exactly what they did. There was none of the glitz and crap of Popmart or Discotheque; and it was really nice. There were giant screens, of course, but for some reason they were all black and white. I wonder why. I wish they'd been colour ones. Perhaps that's another augmentation to the feeling of minimalism. I think, really, that this is going to be the band's last major tour. With Bono's voice faltering as it had been, I don't see much more future in arena shows for them. I don't see them stopping, no; I just think it's going to be smaller tours and large clubs. It was a good show, regardless of the faults, and I'm very happy I finally got to see them. Many thanks to my friend Max and my mother for helping the trip come to be. Addendum: One thing that <i>did</i> surprise me, was the lack of body searches when we went into the Molson Forum. That's fairly unusual for a show like that, but I'm guessing that the amount of people attending might have made it a bit difficult to carry off. Still, considering Bono's had things tossed at him, and the fact that fans are often more than fanatical, I'm very surprised they didn't do anything in the way of checking people. It ticks me off in a way, because this means I could have taken a camera in there and gotten some shots. Grumble.

[dankusner]

Lords of an Underground Empire

The Old Plantation is the hottest bar in town. But only after surviving arson, harassment, and sabotage.

June 1, 1979

January, 1976: The two men stood in the dim light and surveyed their new domain.

The place was looking good.

It was late Saturday night and construction was right on schedule.

The bars were nearly complete, all the equipment installed; the big dance floor was laid in the disco.

Tomorrow they would put down the carpet and begin fine-tuning the place for their grand opening, just five days away.

The two men had high hopes for their new nightclub here on Cedar Springs. It was going to be, they felt, the best gay bar in Dallas, the liveliest disco around.

There was an established competitor just blocks away, but they were confident.

The new Old Plantation would be a hit.

They took one last look around, smiled at each other, and left.

The next morning, Sunday, the two men stood forlornly in the same place.

Around them were ashes and blackened rubble.

The place had burned to the ground.

The fire marshal’s inspectors subsequently ruled it arson.

It had definitely been a torch job, and a highly professional one at that.

The thing had gone up so fast, had been so hot, that the huge steel support beams had melted into a twisted wreck.

The two men stared silently.

Each knew this was often a brutal business.

In the nightclub trade – particularly, it seemed, in the gay bar business – one was forever flirting with extinction.

Now, the worst had happened.

They had no choice: They turned, kicked through the ashes, and went back to work.

May, 1979: The two men sit close together at the bar, their elbows planted on the counter.

They haven’t seen each other in a while and they have much to talk about.

They make an unlikely pair.

The older man is big, a fat man really, with a burly neck, heavy jowls, thin hair combed straight back.

His eyes are magnified behind thick-lensed glasses in pinched frames too small for his face.

He wears baggy trousers and a rumpled short-sleeved cotton- sport shirt.

He mouths contentedly on a large cigar and downs his Canadian Club and soda at a steady pace.

His young companion, much younger, is a wisp of a man, almost frail, dark hair falling in a long sweep over his forehead.

He wears tight blue jeans and a smart striped knit shirt.

He fidgets with a bar straw and sips occasionally at his whiskey sour, orange slice and cherry clinging to the glass rim.

Their conversation is warm but intense; it’s as if they’re unaware of the chaos around them, the teeming activity at the bar.

It’s as if they’re deaf to the thudding music and blind to the staccato lights, the swirling mass on the dance floor, the general frenzy of this jammed disco.

But, in fact, they see and hear it all better than anyone.

They own the place.

That noisy swirl is making them a fortune.

The Old Plantation, on a new site, has risen from the ashes; the two men, the owners, have pushed it to the forefront of the Dallas disco scene.

They are Frank and Charley.

It’s as odd a business partnership as can be imagined, and enormously successful.

The pale stucco of the building, broken only by a few dull green doors, is undistinguished.

By day, one could drive this stretch of Harwood Street a hundred times without paying any attention to it, without ever noticing those letters, OP, next to one of the doors.

There’s little reason to be looking at anything in this lifeless neighborhood on the northern rim of downtown Dallas.

And if it’s dead by day it certainly wouldn’t be expected to have life by night.

But every night after 10 p.m., in one of the city’s great geographical incongruities, the Old Plantation bursts alive.

It’s the most successful discotheque in Dallas.

It was among the first to catch the disco wave and has ridden it further than anyone.

On a weekend night, more than a thousand people squeeze through its doors.

It was built for, and caters to, the gay community, but straights have discovered it in increasing numbers.

Frank and Charley and their OP are riding high; the pair now own a dozen other bars in Dallas, Houston, El Paso, and Tampa, Florida, three of them christened Old Plantation.

Two more OP’s are planned for Atlanta and Jacksonville.

It’s a budding empire.

But things haven’t always been so good for Frank and Charley; the Old Plantation’s life has been nearly snuffed more than once – by arson, by sabotage, by police harassment, by legal hassles, by cutthroat competition.

Frank and Charley consider themselves damn lucky to be where they are.

Twelve years ago, Frank was selling used cars in El Paso; Charley was selling corny dogs in the Cotton Bowl.

★

Frank Caven was born in Philadelphia in 1920.

For a man destined for the bar business, he had two things going tor him: He was Irish and he grew up in Atlantic City.

Before he entered the bar business, Caven’s life was selling cars.

After one insignificant year of business college, he bought a service station in Philadelphia, started repairing used cars and selling them.

For the next 28 years, Frank Caven was a car salesman – he sold Hudsons in Philly, Kaisers in Atlantic City, and Fords in New York.

On a visit to El Paso in 1955, he noticed the pedestrian soldiers of huge Fort Bliss, figured he could sell them used cars, and set up shop in Texas.

Ten years later, a G.I., one of thousands who had bought a Caven car, came to him with a proposition: If Frank (who had state residency) would secure a liquor license, the G.I. would put up the money to start a bar in El Paso.

Frank agreed.

The G. I. ran out of money and Frank bought him out; he opened the place and named it Gold-finger.

It was packed every night.

That was fifty bars ago.

In 1969, Caven came to Dallas to see about investing in an automobile agency.

Instead, he saw something else.

In El Paso, he had become involved both professionally and privately in the gay scene; in Dallas he noticed there were only three gay bars, only one of which served liquor.

Feeling sure the market would support a gay dance bar, he said goodbye to the car business and, after two months of searching, discovered a foundering bar, The Gilded Cage, in a large old house on Rawlins Street in the heart of Oak Lawn.

He bought the lease.

In January 1970, the Bayou Club opened its doors.

Word spread throughout the gay community, but success wasn’t instant.

Then, two months after the Bayou opened, a letter appeared in the widely read ��Action Line” column in the Times Herald.

The letter writer explained that he had happened to wander into a bar on Rawlins Street where, to his surprise, he had seen “men dancing with men.”

He wanted to know whether that was legal.

“That,” says Caven, “was like $10,000 worth of free publicity.”

The tide was turned; the Bayou boomed.

Says Caven, in one of his pet bar owner’s phrases, “From then on, it was wall-to-wall bodies.”

He opened one other bar in Dallas at the time, a place called the King of Clubs on Field Street.

Caven recalls all of his bars with a kind of fatherly pride.

“The King of Clubs was an interesting place. It was a Y-shaped building; one side was for men and the other side for women. The men’s side was generally calm, but the women’s side used to attract a lot of stewardesses.

Occasionally a fight would break out between the Braniff stewardesses and the American stewardesses.”

He shakes his head and chuckles.

“Those were the worst, meanest bar fights I’ve ever seen.”

The King of Clubs wasn’t around for too long.

As with most of his early bar ventures, Caven was as apt to sell as he was to buy.

It was all a game of timing.

After two years of success with The Bayou Club, Caven decided to sell, to a man named Dennis Sisk, who operated the place for about six months; then, with his partner Tony Caterine, Sisk moved to a much larger and more extravagant location on Pearl Street, and the bar became the Bayou Landing.

It was Dallas’ first gay disco showplace and it took off.

Suddenly overshadowed by his competitors in the gay trade, Caven looked in another direction.

He went into partnership with a young rock ’n’ roll entrepreneur from Austin named Bill Simonson and backed Simonson’s idea to transform the old Rawlins Street building into a “boogie and blues” club, refurbished in the rough cedar look that was catching on, and aimed at the straight crowd.

In March 1973, Mother Blues was born.

The lines stretched around the block; it was an immediate and immense success.

A restless businessman, Caven eventually sold out his interest in Mother Blues to Simonson and opened a disco on Lemmon Avenue called the Mark Twain.

The Mark Twain didn’t fare too well; the successful Bayou Landing, a direct descendant of Caven’s own Bayou Club, had a stranglehold on the gay disco scene and Caven couldn’t break it.

He and his staff struggled to make the Mark Twain go.

One of the staff was a young barback by the name of Charley Hott.

Charley washed glasses by night and by day studied accounting at UTA.

The product of a middle-class family in Arlington, Charley had a strong work ethic and a fascination with money.

He planned to become a tax lawyer.

Frank Caven became acquainted with the young barboy and learned of his bent for accounting.

If there was one thing Caven hated about the bar business, it was keeping the books.

He invited Charley to come in on Sunday afternoons and pay some bills, work the payroll.

For the frugal and ambitious dishwasher, it meant a few extra bucks.

Today, he wears a diamond ring and drives a new black Cadillac.

Occasionally a fight would break out between the Braniff stewardesses and the American stewardesses.”

He shakes his head and chuckles.

“Those were the worst, meanest bar fights I’ve ever seen.”

In 1974, with his new assistant Charley Hott looking on from the books, Caven sold the Mark Twain to Bill Simonson who relocated Mother Blues there.

Continuing their game of musical bars, Caven moved back into the old Rawlins Street house.

Caven had always admired the old house; it reminded him of southern gentility, of an old mansion down on the bayou.

He decided this time to call the place the Old Plantation.

Caven aimed the Old Plantation at the older, moneyed gay crowd – 25 and over, businessmen, professionals.

There was dancing, but it was more of a mingling bar.

Caven, once again, found a crease in the market. The OP, as its regulars fondly dubbed it, began to skim the cream off the top of the Bayou Landing’s clientele.

The Bayou Landing, for almost three years a booming success, was beginning to have troubles of its own.

The operation had expanded to Houston and the Bayou Landing there was faltering.

Caven and Hott saw the Houston market as a ripe one, made a deal to purchase the Bayou Landing from Sisk and Caterine, remodeled the place, and, in November 1975, reopened under the name of the Old Plantation.

The OP-Houston caught on immediately and hasn’t slowed since.

In Dallas, the owners of the Bayou Landing were experiencing legal difficulties.

Dennis Sisk was busted on high level drug distribution charges (he is today still a fugitive under a $1 million bond) and Tony Caterine was arrested, indicted, and imprisoned on charges of credit card fraud.

The Bayou Landing continued to operate, but under a dark cloud.

The Old Plantation on Rawlins, meanwhile, was forced to move when the owners of the building decided to tear it down. Frank and Charley went in search of much larger quarters; the new OP would be serious disco – big floor, big big sound, big lights – catching the wave that was rising out of New York and LA.

It would, they figured, take up the slack left by the sagging Bayou Landing.

They found their spot on Cedar Springs.

All went well until that Saturday night when someone burned it down. No indictments were ever made.

But Frank Caven’s years in the bar business had, more than anything else, taught him resiliency.

An incredible ten days after the fire, he and Charley opened a “temporary OP” on Denton Drive.

Quarters were cramped, trimmings minimal, the air conditioning inadequate; but, amazingly, it was another “wall-to-wall bodies” triumph.

While their clientele danced, Frank and Charley beat the streets for a suitable location for a permanent OP.

On Harwood Street, near Ross Avenue, they found a spacious old parking garage.

The downtown location was a risky proposition, but Caven and Hott didn’t hesitate.

The building was perfect.

Besides, they knew their clientele.

They weren’t dealing with the whims of convenience of the Greenville Avenue crowd.

The gay community was long accustomed to the underground style of offbeat locations; if the place was good, the gays would find it.

Construction began under round-the-clock security.

There would be no repeat of the Cedar Springs burnout.

People in the trade say there is no one who can put a bar together faster than Frank Caven and this was a supreme challenge.

Standing near-constant vigil, trading sleep shifts with Charley, directing his crew, sawing his own boards, nailing his own nails, Caven whipped the place together from scratch in 45 days.

An hour before the gala grand opening, he was still putting light fixtures in the wall.

As the festivities began, Frank went home and went to bed.

The Old Plantation on Harwood was a huge success from the beginning.

“Whoever burnt me out,” says Caven, “did me a big favor. The original location wouldn’t have been big enough.”

Tight security was maintained.

Some weeks after the opening, a man fell through a false ceiling in the building.

Guards apprehended him; strapped to his leg was a plastic detergent bottle filled with gasoline.

On the hot night of July 4th that summer, a sniper perched in a nearby building shot out the air conditioning units on the roof of the OP.

A few weeks later, a security guard caught two men drilling holes in the roof; the FBI investigated and found them to be known arsonists.

But the OP survived.

There have been other problems.

For a time, DPD vice-control head D. L. Burgess led a series of harassment raids on the OP.

Burgess sought to crack down on the club, citing a city ordinance which prohibits dancing after 2 a.m. and the OP was his target.

The OP filed suit against the City of Dallas over the ordinance and was granted a temporary injunction; technically the Old Plantation is still the only club in Dallas with legal dancing after hours.

Gay observers were amused during legal proceedings when Burgess cited “prostitution” as his primary reason for cracking down on the OP.

The lawsuit is still pending, but with the departure of Burgess, the harassment has ceased.

The OP has maintained generally good relations with the police, who make spot checks regularly; the beat cops will occasionally stop in, chat with the bartenders, and take in the sights.

The OP’s own security keeps the place in check; there have been few serious incidents.

Frank Caven and Charley Hott wouldn’t have it any other way.

Their operating philosophy is based on order.

“This,” they are fond of saying, “is strictly a business.”

That business has become a big one.

Between them, the two now own 14 bars.

Each bar is a separate corporation, and in each they have a varying percentage investment.

(The clubs in Florida, in fact, are wholly owned by Caven; Hott prefers to concentrate in Texas: “Frank is like an octopus,” says Charley. “He can be in a hundred places at once. I’m more like an old mother hen guarding her nest. And my nest is Dallas.”)

Of the 14 clubs, half are large discos.

Most of the discos, like the OP-Dallas, have begun to attract more and more of a mixed crowd – gays and straights alike.

The predominance is still gay, but, particularly on weekends, the mix is moving toward 50-50.

One of their discos, the Mark Twain in Tampa, is a straight bar, the only straight bar in their domain, but every bit as successful as the others.

On weekends and Monday nights (10c drink night), the Mark Twain is as hot as any disco its size in the country; there isn’t a straight disco in Dallas that compares with it.

The rest of the Caven/Hott clubs are “cruise bars” – much smaller, non-disco, totally gay.

The cruise bars, like those lining Fitzhugh Avenue, are somewhat more clandestine; it’s here that the gay community seeks social refuge from the “mix” that is moving in on the discos.

(“I was having dinner the other night with two gay attorneys,” says Hott, “and they told me they wouldn’t go to the OP anymore for fear of running into clients, straight clients.”)

These closet professionals, along with disco-weary gays and some older gays, make up the cruise bar clientele.

The Caven/Hott cruise bars are basically break-even propositions financially. It’s the discos that make the money.

The gross revenues of all the Caven/ Hott clubs combined are estimated to average a half million dollars per month, a very conservative estimate.

The discos account for most of that.

The OP-Dallas alone grosses in excess of a million dollars a year.

Perhaps 40 percent of the gross revenues derives from the cover charge ($1 weekdays, $2 weekends).

“A simplistic bottom line in our business,” says Hott, “is to say that the revenues from the cover charge cancel out our overhead. That leaves the bar sales, the beer and liquor sales, as the profit margin.”

In the case of the Old Plantation, that’s a hefty margin.

A few years ago, the OP-Dallas was the largest single purveyor of Coors beer in Dallas-Fort Worth.

When the gay boycott of Coors arose (in response to anti-homosexual remarks made by Mrs. Joseph Coors), the OP switched to Miller Lite.

They now sell more Lite than anyone in the area.

Liquor sales are equally stunning.

The OP is certainly among the top 10 in the area in bar liquor sales, probably in the top 5.

One competitor puts them at number one: “I’m sure the OP sells more alcohol than the next two biggest bars combined.”

There’s no doubt that if there were a category for “liquor sales per hour,” the OP would win hands down.

Perhaps the only bar in Texas that could compete on that basis is the OP-Houston.

The Old Plantation is really only in full swing for four hours a night, from 10 till 2.

It’s phenomenal how much alcohol is served in such a short time.

It happens because of a Caven operating key that has been critical to his success: traffic flow.

With the OP-Houston, Caven adopted a layout design that has since been duplicated in all of his other discos.

The set-up is simply the large dance floor ringed on three sides by bars.

The idea is to make drinks readily accessible at all times from anywhere in the club.

The OP-Dallas, for example, has four separate bars, one always seemingly an arm’s-length away; even on the busiest nights, a customer rarely has to wait more than 30 seconds to get a drink.

“There is nothing more deadly in the nightclub business,” says Caven, “than a bottleneck at the bar.”

The layout also serves to promote a circuitous flow of traffic.

The Old Plantation, even when packed, is in constant motion. “People go to bars to socialize, to avoid being lonely,” says one of Caven’s managers. “To socialize they have to pass by each other, bump into each other, look into each other’s eyes. The more passing and bumping, the more friendly it is. The more friendly it is, the longer people want to stay. The longer they stay, the more they drink. Frank understands that. That’s why Frank’s places work.”

Caven offers his own basic philosophy of disco success: “Good drinks, good sound, cleanliness, and friendliness – in that order.”

The Old Plantation, backing up his words, does pour solid drinks; it also pours them cheap.

“We have no choice but to keep our bar prices low,” says Hott. “It’s dictated by our market. It’s estimated that the gay population of Dallas is about 100,000. I say that’s high, but let’s say it’s true. Of that, only, say, 10 percent is an active, bar-seeking, socializing crowd. That means our direct available market is about 10,000 gays. That’s small. That’s what makes the gay bar business so closely competitive and comparative. That’s why our drinks are cheap, Elan can pour a cocktail for $2.10. If we do that, with our competitors pouring for $1.50, we’re lost.”

The “good sound” aspect of Caven’s philosophy is a simple one.

The disco scene has caused the development of the huge super-sound system and now demands it.

No self-respecting disco would be caught without an “earthquake bass.”

A good sound system means a minimum investment of $25,000.

It also means a topflight disc jockey – the best now make $100-$150 for a short night’s work.

As for “cleanliness,” it’s a Caven fetish.

“There is nothing I hate worse than a dirty bar,” he says. “I’m a bug on it. I want fresh paint, I want all light bulbs on, I want plenty of toilet paper. If I don’t see it in my own bars, I raise hell with my managers. And friendliness, friendliness at the door – well, that’s critical.”

Tight security was maintained.

Some weeks after the opening, a man fell through a false ceiling in the building. Guards apprehended him; strapped to his leg was a plastic detergent bottle filled with gasoline.

Friendliness at the door has been an issue in times past at the Dallas Old Plantation.

It stems from a basic issue among gays – whether or not this basic trend toward the mixed crowd, this influx of straights into the gay discos, is a desirable one.

Many think not.

There have been, in the past, stringent ID checks at the OP door, partly to cut down on the “date” clientele (a woman with a date often doesn’t carry her purse; thus, no ID).

But the OP seems to have succumbed to the trend.

Caven, for one, does not resist it.

“The trend in discos in both New York and LA now is toward the mixed crowd, so why fight it? Besides, who am I to stand at the door and ask people what their sexual preferences are? It’s really none of my damn business.”

The gay community in Dallas is growing fast.

Dallas has become one of the most attractive cities in the country for gay professionals, and its center is the World Trade Center and the huge market and fashion trade here.

As the community grows, the gay entertainment complex will grow.

Frank and Charley will face more and more competition.

Even now they have sturdy competitors in two other gay discos: Dimension III, in the former Bayou Landing on Pearl Street, is a big operation; owned by Bob Strange, D-III, as it’s called, attracts a more consistently gay clientele than the OP, and a much larger crowd of gay women.

Magnolia’s, on Cedar Springs, is the newest arrival on the scene; owned by David Eaves, Magnolia’s is much smaller than the other two, but its impressive sound and light system have attracted a loyal crowd, somewhat mixed.

Caven and Hott, meanwhile, are not standing idle.

They’ll soon be opening another disco on Cedar Springs, near Magnolia’s.

The Village Station, as it’s tentatively named, will be smaller than the OP, but more sophisticated in decor, lights, and sound.

Their hope is that the OP will continue to absorb the mixed crowd and that the new place can cater more exclusively to gays.

The Floridian arm of the empire is also growing.

Caven has just opened an extraordinary new disco in Tampa called El Goya.

Set in an old Spanish building in the old Ybor City section of Tampa, replete with Spanish tile mosaics, huge arched doorways, and wrought-iron gates, the club has five separate bars in separate rooms.

Because the building is a U. S. historical landmark, all improvements on the building, in essence all costs of construction, are financed by the federal government at a mere three percent interest.

Caven can’t resist a chuckle at the notion of Uncle Sam’s building a gay bar.

After Tampa, the empire will move on to Jacksonville; at the same time, negotiations continue on property in Atlanta; lately there’s been talk of Miami; San Antonio and Austin are prime locations.

Frank Caven and Charley Hott seem to know no bounds. Certainly the gay world will continue to grow and continue to provide wanting market places.

But can the disco fad hold up?

It has been the sudden flash of disco, not the gradual emergence of gays, that has made wealthy men of Frank and Charley. Can it last much longer?

“Oh yeah,” says Caven confidently. “I see at least three or four more years of peak activity. By then some new trends will be developing.”

Such as?

“Well, I think the next move may be to rock discotheques. By that I mean rock records on the sound system instead of disco music. A lot of people prefer to dance to rock ’n’ roll; and a lot of club owners will find it’s easier to hire a disc jockey playing the original records than to hire live bands to make a mess of them.”

Hott expands the notion: “Even more likely, at least in the South, will be C&W discos. With the country and western traditions rooted in dancing and big ballrooms, it’s a natural. It will just require someone who knows the genre to adapt the process. Disco is here for a while. You can bet on it.”

★

Frank Caven, 58, and Charley Hott, 26, sit in one of their Tampa bars posing for photographs.

“The odd couple,” whispers an amused observer.

They are indeed.

They seem to have nothing in common except a mutual compatibility and a nose for the bar business.

That, and a love for it; they both get a genuine kick out of what they’re doing.

Charley loves to make the rounds in his bars, chatting with bartenders, conjuring up new promotions and bar designs, checking out the books; he loves to travel to other cities and scout the competition, seek new bar sites.

He has his own consulting company, plays the stock market avidly, and deals in real estate, “But those are my passive investments; my active investment will always be the bar business.”

Frank immerses himself in his latest construction project; he can hardly finish his coffee after dinner, he’s so keyed up to get back to the construction site where he will work until after midnight.

A sportsman of sorts (he used to play ice hockey and drive stock cars), he likes to fish, likes to golf, likes to dabble in the stock market; but mostly he likes to play the bar business.

They both get a kick out of it.

A newcomer arrives on the photography set.

“What’s this all about?” he asks, spying Frank and Charley under the lights.

“Frank and Charley are gonna be in a magazine,” replies one of Caven’s construction cohorts.

“What magazine?”

“Ladies Home Journal.”

Everyone gets a kick out of that.

[thegaytraveler]

Pride is a year-round observance in Vegas

National Pride Month is celebrated every June, honoring the LGBTQ+ community and its contributions and culture. Las Vegas observes Pride year-round -- including its own official Pride celebration each October -- as the destination is an ideal place for members of the LGBTQ+ community to celebrate their true selves regardless of the occasion. Here are some Las Vegas Pride Month highlights, annual events and LGBTQ+ nightspots that keep the party going all year long.

PRIDE MONTH EVENTS IN LAS VEGAS

Caesars Entertainment will celebrate Pride Month by lighting up the High Roller observation wheel at The LINQ Promenade and the Eiffel Tower at Paris Las Vegas in rainbow colors on Thursday, June 1 and Wednesday, June 28.

The Venetian Resort Las Vegas kicks off Pride Month on Thursday, June 1 by displaying the colors of the Pride flag on the resort’s exterior tower signs.

In recognition and celebration of LGBTQ+ voices and culture, The Neon Museum has created a self-guided tour using the stanchion toppers which will be dotted around the Neon Boneyard to tell some of the LGBTQ+ stories of Las Vegas. Throughout the month, tour guides will place a greater emphasis on these stories, including facts from Las Vegas historian and queer advocate Dennis McBride. Highlights include stories about Liberace, Kenny Kerr and Christine Jorgensen.

Held every Saturday throughout June (and the summer season), the Las Vegas PRIDE Elevate Pool Party promises splash-tastic action at Retro Pool Lounge at SAHARA Las Vegas.

Cheapshot, a showroom and discotheque in downtown Las Vegas, presents an Elton John-themed piano bar experience every Saturday in June.

Celebrating 13 seasons, the long-running Temptation Sundays pool party at Luxor Hotel & Casino offers fun under the sun every Sunday in June—and the rest of the summer. The hotel’s resident production show, Fantasy, celebrates Pride Month with an additional number added to the production’s shows from Friday, June 16 to Sunday, June 18. The revue’s headliner will mesmerize the audience with a rendition “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga to recognize and show support for the LGBTQ+ community.

Visitors can lace up a pair of roller skates to show some pride, as Las Vegas PRIDE Family Skate Night presented by CRUSH is taking place on Monday, June 5 at Crystal Palace Rancho.

Visitors can participate in friendly competition at Las Vegas PRIDE Family Bingo at The Portal at AREA15 on Wednesday, June 7.

For adventure seekers, Las Vegas PRIDE OUTside Hike offers a trek along Mount Charleston’s Mary Jane Falls trail, taking place Sunday, June 11. The organization also plans monthly hikes throughout the year.

The Mexican hideaway of La Mona Rosa will present a Pride Brunch on Sunday, June 11 and Sunday, June 25. The event will feature a drag show at noon, as well as an exclusive pride cocktail and signature brunch items.

Las Vegas female impersonator Frank Marino will bring a crew of pop-culture favorites to Frankie’s Uptown at Downtown Summerlin for Frank Marino’s Divas Drag Brunch. Taking place on Sunday, June 11, the event features performers giving their very best impersonations of stars such as Taylor Swift, P!nk, Beyonce, Rihanna, Tina Turner and more.

Visitors looking for some laughs with a side of plasticware can enjoy the Tupperware Party with Dixie Longate at 24 Oxford at Virgin Hotels Las Vegas on Sunday, June 11, with proceeds benefitting Aid for AIDS Nevada (AFAN). The resort also presents a Pride Month House Party on Wednesday, June 14 at Kassi Beach House, which features LGBTQ+-friendly DJs, a face and body painter and more. Additionally, RuPaul’s Drag Race favorite Monét X Change performs at the hotel’s 24 Oxford lounge on Friday, June 16. The property’s monthlong celebration also includes a production from another RuPaul’s Drag Race alum, as Gia Gunn brings the gossip and drama on Sunday, June 18 to The Shag Room. The special installment of the venue’s Upside Down Tea Party, Spilling the Tea with Gia Gunn, will also feature live performances by Elise Victoria and benefit Aid for AIDS Nevada (AFAN).

GLAM returns to Ghostbar at Palms Casino Resort on Sunday, June 11, hosted by American Idol alumni Mikalah Gordon and featuring DJ Lisa Pittman.

Sports fans can take in a game featuring the World Champion Las Vegas Aces on Thursday, June 15, as Las Vegas Aces PRIDE Night takes place at Michelob ULTRA Arena at Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino.

The 6th Annual PRIDE Bar Crawl takes place Saturday, June 17, when LGBTQ+ bars and mainstream venues invite revelers to hop around the destination. Registration begins at Therapy in the Fremont Street Entertainment District, with the event ending in a drag show and after-party at FreeZone Nightclub & Bar in Las Vegas’ beloved Fruit Loop.

Longtime Las Vegas female impersonator Frank Marino puts on Love Out Loud, a drag brunch at Level Up inside MGM Grand Hotel & Casino on Sunday, June 18. The event will feature performances by Marino and his Divas and include a buffet style brunch and two hours of bottomless champagne or sparkling wine.

Frank Marino continues his Love Out Loud experience with Guyote Sunday at Coyote Ugly at New York-New York Hotel & Casino on Sunday, June 18. The event includes a special performance by Thunder From Down Under and a one-hour meet-and-greet session with the cast. The event also offers a special opportunity for male guests to be allowed to dance on the bars with the Coyote Ugly dancers.

The Liberace: Real and Beyond exhibit opens at the Nevada State Museum, Las Vegas opens on Saturday, June 24. The display chronicles the LGBTQ+ icon’s life and features many personal items, including costumes, pianos, automobiles and more.

Gold Spike in downtown Las Vegas has announced the return of its Drag Queen Bingo night. Being held in the venue’s Backyard space, the Pride Month installment takes place on Thursday, June 29, featuring bingo games, live performances, giveaways and drink specials. An additional installment will take place on Thursday, Aug. 31.

UPCOMING LGBTQ+ EVENTS IN VEGAS

Wynn Las Vegas will host two well-known LGBTQ+ comedians in July, as Tom Dillon plays the Encore Theater on Saturday, July 22, with Mateo Lane following in the same space on Saturday, July 29.

Singer, choreographer and internet sensation Todrick Hall will take the Vegas stage on Tuesday, Sept. 19, as he presents Todrick Hall: Velvet Rage at House of Blues Las Vegas at Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino.

LAS VEGAS PRIDE EVENTS

Las Vegas PRIDE celebrates 40 years with the Ruby Anniversary, aptly named Red and Wild. The annual Las Vegas PRIDE Parade—one of the only nighttime gay pride parades in the United States—kicks off the celebration on Friday, Oct. 6 in downtown Las Vegas. The procession, taking place down Fourth Street, features fabulous floats, glamorous drag queens, community organizations and more.

The parade is only the beginning of a weekend-long celebration of LGBTQ+ unity, as the Las Vegas PRIDE Festival takes place on Saturday, Oct. 7. Held at the Craig Ranch Regional Park, the event features entertainment, food and beverage, family-friendly activities and more.

Las Vegas PRIDE also sponsors additional parties throughout PRIDE weekend and several non-sanctioned parties at the LGBTQ+ venues in the destination also host celebratory events.

ANNUAL LGBTQ+ EVENTS THROUGHOUT THE YEAR IN LAS VEGAS

The Aid for AIDS of Nevada’s AIDS Walk Las Vegas occurs annually in May, most recently taking place at Sunset Park. Now in its 33rd year, the event features entertainment from community and Strip performers, including Chippendales, Vegas! The Show, the Las Vegas Men’s Chorus and more. The Nevada Gay Rodeo Association’s most anticipated event of the year, the BigHorn Rodeo, takes place from Friday, Sept. 15 to Sunday, Sept. 17 at Horseman’s Park. The annual event features rough stock, roping, speed, and camp events. The organization also puts on several gatherings throughout the year, including Cowboy Bingo Night at Quadz Video Bar. Attendees can participate in the classic game with the chance to win fabulous raffle prizes from sponsors and supporters.

Also held in May, the Henderson Pride Festival features a series of events focused on celebrating diversity, self-awareness and promoting health and wellness. The event traditionally features live entertainment, food trucks, a family fun zone, vendors and more.

The Imperial Royal Sovereign Court of the Desert Empire, Inc. hosts its Las Vegas Coronation event each December, which attracts International Imperial Royal Court System dignitaries from across the United States to the destination.

Held each January, the Sin City Classic is a multi-day LGBTQ+ sports festival. Started in 2008, the event has grown to become the largest annual LGBTQ+ sporting event in the world. Nearly 8,000 LGBTQ+ athletes and another 2,000 fans and allies will attend the event, which provides an open atmosphere for LGBTQ+ athletes to connect and compete over the course of four days of competition and social activities.

LGBTQ+ WEDDINGS

Caesars Entertainment offers several nuptial options for same-sex and gender non-binary couples at its resorts throughout the destination, with options to say “I do” on The LINQ Hotel + Experience’s High Roller observation wheel, on the Eiffel Tower deck at Paris Las Vegas, and at Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino, where celebrity-style wedding packages come complete with paparazzi and a red-carpet host.

Famed for theatrical themed weddings, the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel offers two new wedding packages: “ShElvis” and “Queens of Vegas.” The two packages performed by icons of drag launches during National Pride Month but will be offered year-round. The ShElvis package includes a drag queen Elvis serving as the officiant, who also will perform two songs; while the Queens of Vegas package features a choice of a drag queen Madonna or Cher impersonator. Both packages include florals, photos, limousine transportation and more.

LGBTQ+ ENTERTAINMENT AND NIGHTLIFE   Part of a chain of western-themed gay bars, Charlie’s Las Vegas is a short ride from the Strip on the west side of Las Vegas. The space features a full dance floor and a vibrant entertainment calendar including drag shows, karaoke, and bingo.    FreeZone Nightclub and Bar pairs a casual atmosphere with upbeat music and nightly events like karaoke and drag shows. Guests can also grab a bite from their bar menu or play a round of pool.    Just off the Strip, Fun Hog Ranch is a casual hangout offering several beers on tap, cocktails and more. The welcoming space routinely partners with community organizations for fun, themed events.    The Garage, located a few miles off the Strip, is a hot spot for locals and visitors alike. Modeled after an auto-body shop, the bar features pool tables, shuffleboard and darts, in addition to drink specials and mouth-watering bar bites.    The Garden Las Vegas is an intimate and chic lounge bar located in the Downtown Las Vegas Arts District, featuring craft cocktails, light bites, and extravagant ambiance. Visitors can join some of the most talented drag queens every Saturday and Sunday at the Bottomless Drag Brunch for endless cocktails, delicious food and fun that slays.  Serving up unforgettable parties seven nights a week, Piranha Nightclub is the ultimate late-night location for LGBTQ+ revelers. From international DJs to world famous drag queens, the entertainment is top-notch and draws a lively, diverse crowd. Depending on the occasion, guests can enjoy a cocktail or dance the night away on Piranha’s state-of-the-art dance floors among go-go dancers.    Just a short walk from Piranha and FreeZone is Quadz. In addition to pool tables and darts, the bar also features regular special events, including bingo and themed parties.

From the creative team behind the Emmy Award-winning series RuPaul’s Drag Race, RuPaul’s Drag Race Live! at Flamingo Las Vegas is an extravaganza featuring cast favorites including Derrick Barry, Jaida Essence Hall, Jorgeous and more.

Drag Brunch at Señor Frog’s at Treasure Island Hotel & Casino offers an unlimited supply of mimosas, a bottomless Southwestern-inspired buffet, and entertainment from queens—or royalty—from RuPaul’s Drag Race, including Shannel and Kahanna Montrese.

[clivechip]

Song Lyric Sunday: Disco

This week, Jim has chosen disco music as our theme for Song Lyric Sunday, as you can read about in his post, Discotheque. Disco music really took off around the mid Seventies, and was part of the reason I began to lose interest in the singles charts: I found most of it mind-numbingly boring! The craze saw some mega sales, though, and is epitomised for me by the Saturday Night Fever movie, and all…

[sundaydiscotheque]

[wldpttrns]

Slow ripples of sparkling, ethereal lo-fi chillwave from Sunday Discotheque!

[despair-sauce]

Stan and Kenny's Idea of a Perfect Date for Kyle and Cartman

"it has to be something big and extravagant!" Kenny blurts out.

For twenty minutes now Stan and Kenny have been talking about their two friends Cartman and Kyle. Ever since they secretly caught them on Sunday, those two wouldn't shut up about them.

"No dude, Ky isn't big on all that dramatic shit like Cartman is," Stan says, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Just something small and secluded will be enough for him."

"But Stan! Think about it! If we just get a super cool band, maybe a big ass stereo, then maybe-"

Stan cuts him off. "No Ken, we aren't doing that." Kenny frowns deeply. "This isn't just about mom, you know."

"I know that!" Stan says, looking a bit offended. "I just feel like a dinner date or something small like that will be fine for them!"

"But that's not Cartman's thing," Kenny starts. "He likes being in loud and noisy scenes." "But Kyle doesn't," Stan deadpans.

A quiet few seconds go by and the whole time they can't think of anything.

"It's like the world is setting them up to fail," Kenny says, dramatically throwing his hands on his face. Stan laughs but silently agrees.

"We should know what they would want, Ken, we've known them for years," Stan says with a frown on his face. "But how were we supposed to know they wanted each other!"

"Each other," Kenny quietly says, taking his hands off his face, looking down with a surprised face. "Huh?" Stan asks, totally confused.

Kenny finally looks up at Stan and gives him a toothy grin. "Stay right here, I'll be right back!" Kenny says, getting up off the floor and running out of his bedroom, leaving Stan by himself for the next five minutes.

When those five minutes pass, Kenny comes back with paper and crayons. He sits them down next to Stan and runs to his closet.

"What are you doing, Ken?" Stan asks, even more confused than before. Seconds later he pulls out his suit and tie and sits it down on his bed. "Do you have a suit or tux?" Kenny asks.

"A suit, yes, why?" "Because I just had the most perfect idea in the world!" Kenny yells out, clearly enjoying the moment. "Stan your house is like 10 minutes away, right? Can you go get your suit and come right back?"

Stan gets up and walks to Kenny's bedroom door. "Yeah, sure, but I'm still very confused."

"You won't be when you come back!" Kenny yells out.

Stan leaves, leaving Kenny alone. During the time Stan is gone, Kenny is drawing away on a piece of paper.

When Stan comes back, Kenny is still concocting his plan, but he's mostly done.

"I'm back, here." Stan says, giving Kenny his suit. "ooooh it's blue!" Kenny says, starting nicely at Stan suit. "I bet it looks so nice on you!"

Stan blushes smalley and scratches the back of his neck. "Oh whatever, now about your plan."

"Right right right! Look at this! I'm not done yet, but you can see where I'm going with it!"

Kenny gives Stan his paper that has his almost done plan on it.

Five minutes later, Stan lifts his head and looks at Kenny. "So, this is what you're thinking?"

That question makes Kenny smile. "Yep! We all know Mom is a stickler for loud spaces, and quiet spaces make Cartman freak out, so this is what I came up with!"

"A discotheque? Isn't that kind of..." Stan tries to say it's a bit stupid, but Kenny's face is lit up, and he doesn't want to ruin that.

"Yeah yeah, it's not the most normal thing, but I'm sure they'd enjoy it!" Kenny says.

"If you know what you're doing, I'm with you on this," Stan says. "Let's make this one hell of a night to remember for them."

"But how are we going to tell them to go to any of this? They don't exactly know that we know that they are eye fucking each other," Kenny says, putting his hand on his chin.

"You can leave that to me," Stan says, clearly confident. "If I left that up to you, you'd probably let the whole world in on it."

"nuh-uh!" Kenny says all child-like, but still grinning. "But you should do that, you can persuade Mom better than I can."

"Okay cool, I'll text him and Cartman sometime tonight and and I'll you know what's up." Stan says.

"Oh hey, are you staying the night?" Kenny says looking up at Stan. "If you want me to," Stan responds. "Oh nice! Let me get some blankets for you then!" Kenny says and runs out of his bedroom for the second time tonight.

"Kenny you one energetic bastard," Stan mutters to himself.

Okay, time to text those two assholes.

[srbachchan]

DAY 4677

Jalsa, Mumbai                   Dec 19/20,  2020               Sat/Sun 12:17 AM   

Birthday - EF Binita Sarkar .. Sunday, December 20 .. and we wish you a very happy wala birthday aur greetings ki bharmaar .. 🤣🤣🙏

                                   There is no misery 

                     where there is no want .

                                  Desire, want, is the father of all misery.

                    Desires are bound

                                 by laws of success

                    and failure 

~ स्वामी वि��ेकानंद                  swami vivekananda

अंत में सब का है ये सार  - 

जीवन दुःख - ही - दुःख का है विस्तार ,

दुःख का इच्छा है आधार ,

अगर इच्छा को लो जीत ,

पा सकते हो दुखों से निस्तार ,

पा सकते हो निर्वाण पुनीत  ��                 

~ हरिवंश राय बच्चन                        harivansh rai bachchan 

... in the end , for us all , the essence of life is the spread of grief and pain ; the basis of pain and grief be desire ; if you can be victorious over desire, then you could achieve salvation from grief and pain , you can achieve the purity of nirvana   ....

Babuji’s words are from his poem ‘Buddha aur Naachghar’.. the words of Swami Vivekanand the saint philosopher , are from a collection of his thoughts ‘life lessons‘ in his ‘Believe in Yourself ‘ ..

Buddha aur Naachghar .. Buddha and the Dancing Hall .. is the poem he wrote while he was doing his PhD in Cambridge, England on WB Yeats and Occultism .. a course normally taking 4 years in its completion but completed with honours and the PhD in just 2 years .. 1952 to 1954 ..

He studied relentlessly .. hours and hours of work and no respite .. when he got tired he would stand and work .. made a table from his own hand craft and some of the very meagre resources he had, where he could stand and write .. an image that remained with me , when I constructed a similar table here in Jalsa in my room to keep working if I got tired of sitting down ..

.. the few friends from India that were studying with him in Cambridge, one day decided to end his work monopoly and took him out for some leisure and relax to a ‘dancing Hall’ .. the equivalent of a Discotheque or a Club in todays time .. there Babuji saw at the far end of this dance hall, a large statue of Gautam Buddha, adorning the decoration of the venue , where couples were ball room dancing , to a band music and enjoying their evening drinks and eats ..

.. he came back somewhat disturbed and wrote one of his classics in the most delicious satire that has even to this day, brought the admiration and applause of the readers and listeners of his recitation .. 

.. some may be aware of it .. some may have read it .. some may have had opportunity to hear me recite this poem - perhaps some of the Ef that travelled all the way to Paris to the Théâtre des Champs Elysées , for this stage recitation some years back .. a delight and a privilege for me .. and my most memorable interaction with the Ef .. as they expressed their admiration after the final poem was over and the strains of ‘Madhushala’ were being sung by me, with the most beautiful red roses that they threw on stage in appreciation and applauded ..  

.. a most loved occasion for me .. and I would hope for the travelling Ef as well, that came together from different parts of the World to attend this event ..

.. the climax of the end .. that strain again .. in the timing of its completion on hand .. music the food of love .. music the rhythm of the heart beat .. that invisible thread that binds the ethereal with the real .. that binds the atma to the parmatma  .. the soul to the divine .. 

.. and in its divinity the exuberance of completion , of our little mercies , of effort , of learning , of the deliverance , and the ultimate ultimatum .. nirvana ..  the Eden of the promised land  .. known to us all in belief and words, but never seen in its reality .. the symbolism breathes within us from the emergence of the human .. and its belief .. 

.. long may its validity remain ..

.. and long may the validity of companionship and love .. of care and concern .. of association and admiration .. and the caress of softness be embodied in its personification ...   

Amitabh Bachchan 

[brooklynmuseum]

Join us for a preview of Studio 54: Night Magic—the first museum exhibition devoted to one nightclub.  Enter and Sparkle! Virtual tour created by Matthew Yokobosky, Senior Curator of Fashion and Material Culture. 

SETTING:  NYC in the 1970s was rundown, almost bankrupt, and in need of escapism.  Because rents were low though, many artists and musicians flocked to the city.  It was during this time that three genres of music emerged: punk, hip-hop and especially disco.

THE CREATORS:  Two Brooklyn-born entrepreneurs Ian Schrager (right)  and Steve Rubell (left) created Studio 54 in 1977, the same year the I Love (insert red heart) New York campaign began and Saturday Night Fever was released--together they helped to re-brand NYC.

THE PLACE:  The building at 254 West 54th Street first opened in 1928 as the Fortune Gallo Opera House, became a CBS television studio for three decades (What’s My Line), and in 1966 “The Velvet Underground and Nico” album, produced by Andy Warhol, was recorded here at Scepter Studios..  

DECOR: In 1977, the designer Ron Doud and lighting wizards Jules Fisher and Paul Marantz transformed the theater/soundstage into a discotheque--replacing the stage with a dancefloor but keeping the balcony for viewing, and so that everyone could be seen and become a star for that moment. Voyeuristic architecture.

LOGO and MUSIC:  LIFE magazine art director #GilbertLesser with Schrager created the iconic tilted 54 logo—one of the most widely recognized logos of the ‘70s.  Later, 54 became the cover of the double-album “A Night at Studio 54”, mixed by DJ Roy Thode.  Along with the album, Thode’s custom headphone, original reel-to-reel recordings,  and “beats-per-minute” bible are also on display.  Each gallery of the exhibition has a soundtrack based on original Studio 54 mixes.

OPENING NIGHT:  On  April 26, 1977, The Alvin Ailey Dance Company performed to a disco soundtrack, with choreography by Kay Thompson and costumes designed by the legendary illustrator Antonio Lopez for Fioirucci.

WHO GOT IN:  Studio 54 soon became a must-see destination for celebrities, fashion designers, and New York’s most interesting residents--as doorman Marc Benecke described: “people who could bring energy to the room”.   

One such person was performance artist Richard Gallo, who wore outrageous costumes designed by Phillip Haight and Ronald Kolodzie. 

BUSBOYS: Kolodzie was also the designer of the “eye-catching” busboy uniforms composed of  satin shorts one size too small, knee-high tube socks and sneakers. Many photographs in the exhibition are by @miestorm1 who himself was a busboy known as “Lenny 54”.

STARS:  The exhibition features over 650 works, including twenty original paintings by Richard Bernstein of Studio 54 regulars featured on Interview magazine covers.  Studio hosted the 10th Anniversary Party on June 7, 1979.

DIVERSITY:  Truman Capote on The David Susskind Show, February 1979:   Studio 54-- “Its everything the way it ought to be.  Its very democratic.  It’s all kinds of colors.  All kinds of sizes.  Boys and boys together.  Girls and girls together.  Girls and boys together.  Poor people. Rich people.  Taxi drivers.  Anything you want.  It's all mixed up together and that’s what I like about it.”

Truman Capote, 1979 by Roxanne Lowit

NEW YEARS EVE: The nightclub became known for extravagant décor by Renny Reynolds, Richie Williamson (Moon and the Spoon), and Tony-award winning designer Tony Walton (Neon Fan).  Schrager’s most favorite party of all was New Year’s Eve 1978-79 which he described as “Standing on Stardust”.  Reynolds brought in 4 tons of diamond dust: two for the floor, and two to sprinkle on the dancefloor throughout the night.

Background: Stroke of Midnight at Studio, 1978-79 by Dustin Pop, with dresses by Zandra Rhodes Giorgio DiSantAngelo and Kenny Bonavitacola in foreground.

DISCO FASHION: Fashion designer Halston installed disco lighting in his atelier, so that he could see how his designs would look at Studio 54 and other nightclub settings. His clients included Liza Minnelli, Elizabeth Taylor and Lauren Bacall.

ICONS: Elizabeth Taylor famously wore her Bulgari 62-carat sapphire necklace to Studio, for Martha Graham’s 1979 benefit honoring Halston.  Other attendees included past Graham students: former First Lady BettyFord, DorisDuke and LizaMInnelli.

COMING SOON:  Though it only lasted for 33 months, Studio 54 –  known for its legendary parties that attracted the most diverse, famous and glamorous clientele of its day  –  is considered to be the most important nightclub of the Twentieth Century. 

See why at the Brooklyn Museum. Stay tuned for more updates about Studio 54: Night Magic.

Thank you for joining us on our tour of Studio 54: Night Magic. Join us next Sunday for another virtual tour of our galleries!

Installation view of Studio 54: Night Magic. (Photo: Jonathon Dorado)

(Source: brooklynmuseum.org)

[dirtyfinger]

SUNDAY: 🎚💀🎚 It's a @madtropical HALL🎃WEEN! - Super fave @stickydojah with the wild diverse 45 library joins me all night in Brooklyn's best backroom discotheque... We'll be playing Halloween favorites and freaky forgottens just for you! I'll have a pocketful of drink tickets for all the bestest costumes and WE WILL BLOOD BOOGIE. - 9-late with Queen @zuzukapoderosa at the bar. NO cover YES dancing Proof of vaccination required, dancing shoes recommended. 🌚🖤🌝 #fbp (at Mad Tropical) https://www.instagram.com/p/CVpLYhwLM8q/?utm_medium=tumblr

[richardlawson]

Night Moves

My parents sold their house. The house they bought before my sister and I were born, in that weird slip of time I’m told was the late 1970s. They’re moving to Providence, city of my father’s birth, and a place where a modest condo can be bought, for two people facing next and (yes, we all must admit) maybe final chapters. Over the 4th of July holiday, I spent a teary two nights in the house, going wandering in Boston with a friend and then, just as it was time to leave for the train, taking last passes through the small expanse of the place. I cried. I made myself cry? I don’t know if the tears were real or forced or if forced tears aren’t actually real. But I did. Almost wept. My mom pulled the car out of the driveway and there was my dad, good old Dad, walking the dog up the hill, the last time I’d ever see that. I blubbed, discretely, until my mom asked me a question and then it was hard to hide. “It’s just a building,” she said, which is what I’d told myself, what my therapist had told me. It’s just a building. Just a thing that teemed with all the stuff of our lives for 40 years. And now it’s not.

The day before this goodbye, my family and I went to a wedding. My cousin’s kid got married, an assemblage of people I’d not seen in at least 20 years. It was held at a country club south of the city, and was full of that kind of straight wedding swagger I hate so much—is there no worse sight in the world than groomsmen in suits clutching bottles of beer? That effortful commitment to male casualness amidst the formalness? It speaks to such an ease, the way these men move through the world, that my sister and I were repulsed by it. During the wedding, a long and violent thunderstorm rolled in. But just before that, my family and I wandered the grounds of the country club, walked along the ridge of a hill that offered a view of the city, the whole of Boston laid out there in the hazy, humid distance. The four of us there, lined up and regarding it. It felt like a maudlin farewell. To this city we’ve all been so tethered to, just then rendered so small, so faraway. 

I traveled a lot this summer, more than I had planned. I went to Provincetown for a few nights, my new favorite place, and felt the mid-June thrill of all that. I went to Los Angeles, mostly for work—a grinding reporting assignment that has yet to bear fruit but still could be something good, I hope—but also to see my sister. She’s so good at day trips, feeling so blessed with a car, and we drove up to Ojai, spent a late morning and early afternoon in its clenching, clean heat. We hiked a short distance to a waterfall, where barefoot kids were laughing and dogs were shuffling around. We went into town, roaming an outdoor used bookstore where I searched for my own book and, as ever, came up short. I’d heard so much about Ojai and, while finding it beautiful, was surprised by how little it offered. “You have to be rich to enjoy it,” I said to my sister as we got back in her car and, sealed up in the air conditioning, drove back to the city. 

In Los Angeles, I spent a lot of time holed up in my hotel, a once-trendy place on the Sunset Strip that has a thumping pool club and is just the right amount of uncomfortable to feel cool. It’s a full-service place, so I could take my meals there, do drinks on the patio, barely leave the confines of it. I went a little crazy, swaddled up in the gray blanket of that place—its easy, healthy-ish, sour food, its lukewarm sauvignon blanc mood. I felt like I was there for a whole long Shining winter, growing a beard and going insane and locating some truer kernel of myself than I’d ever known existed. I let myself skitter out into the night on occasion, to see friends and revel, just a bit, in the riot of a city I hate. (I’m sorry, L.A. friends. I have tried so hard to like Los Angeles, but it makes me so stressed and unhappy and full of constant Sunday Scaries that I have to hate it. That said, I can’t wait to visit again.) But mostly I was alone, conducting halting interviews on the phone, pacing around in my cold room while tall trees fluttered in the balcony window. One uneasy afternoon, I watched a bug crawl around the enormous beanbag chair the hotel provided and figured it knew what to do with this lump of furniture more than I did. 

I just got back from Fire Island, another place I have tried to love and—unlike L.A.—might finally be done with. What a dream of an idea that place is, and yet in execution, or at least in my admittedly narrow experience of it, what a drab and horny and exhausting thing it actually is. I don’t fit in there at all, which is a strange sensation for someone who has prided himself on being able to adapt, to quickly recover, to renegotiate physical and social spaces as needed. Fire Island, the Pines in particular, is a bridge past a bridge too far, I’m afraid. Not because I don’t admire its moxie, its Speedo tan-ness, its louche, buggy reverie. I love that people love it. I just feel sad that Fire Island is something like Paris—a beautiful dream I’ll never be able to actually step into, that I’ll never feel filling me like air, like smoke. (I Juul now—another life update.) But it’s good to have that conclusion—to know, because of increasing adulthood and experience, that it, hey, just isn’t for me. I wish it the best. I wanted to blow a kiss to the island as the ferry puttered away back toward Sayville. Goodbye, place! Goodbye, dream! Goodbye all you wonderful people who partied and yearned and grieved and fucked and fell in love there. See you in Ptown, maybe. All you lively ghosts, living and dead.

Fall trips loom. Film festivals, which are so much fun. I’m going to Venice for the first time, next week, and I am so stressed and excited and curious. I booked an Airbnb that’s not near the movies, that’s on the main island with all the canals and handsome gondoliers and luring, leering pasta. (My Fire Island diet nearly killed me, readers.) I chose holistic life experience over festival ease in booking that place and I hope I don’t regret it. And then it’s straight on to Toronto, a festival I love, a town I am growing to like, with people I know and with whom I’m so ready to pretend it’s summer camp again. Fall camp. Autumn camp. What a good time that will be.

But it will keep me away. I’ve been away so much this year, which has been exhilarating—I gave an award out on stage at a loud gay discotheque in Guadalajara, Mexico!—but also lonely, and denying. The thing I’ve sort of stylistically held for the end here is that I fell in love this year, and while it’s a new-ish, only nine-month relationship (“We have a baby,” I said to Andrew tonight), it’s still a totalizing thing. It’s impossible to look at all of this—parents moving, cities roiling, islands churning—not through the lens of that. How terrifically grounded I have felt this year, to something good and happy and intimate and huge in its smallness. This is the first time I’ve really written about him—a scientist, a smiler, a kind and gentle person who calms me and encourages me—and it feels a little scary to type it out. But there he is, suddenly a center. 

When I was home over the 4th, my mom told my sister and me a story about our cousin, the one whose kid got married at the country club. I guess when this cousin was little, a toddler maybe, she would often say, “I need something.” Just that. That quiet little unspecific thing. “I need something,” she’d say in a small voice, tugging at pant legs and looking up at the adults hoping they’d understand and satisfy whatever it was she was asking for. I’ve thought about that a lot since my mom told us about it, there in the backyard I’ll never see again. I need something. I need something! I NEED SOMETHING! 

Of course we all do. Need something. Need so many things. I get corny, thinking about it. I want to say what a mad and blissful and terrible adventure it is, to go chasing after that need. It is. But, again, that’s hokey. So I guess I’ll just end this ramble with a little moment, from Fire Island. I went to bed early one night, and was half asleep when some of the boys of tea came home. I heard them rumbling around upstairs in the living room, muffled laughter and bottles opening. It reminded me of being a kid in the house I grew up in, that will now be lived in by a nice family from Framingham who wrote a heartening letter to my parents about how much they loved the house. That feeling of life happening just beyond the light under the door. And maybe it is. But in that room on Fire Island that night, there was also the beautiful dark, also the hum of the air conditioner, the whine of the mosquito, and there was me, breathing and blinking and alive. That was so much, too. 

[purplesimmer455]

Luna didn’t end up getting her degree so I just moved the graduation to Sunday instead, and had her chat with her moms for a bit before she left to meet her roommates at Discotheque Pan Europa in Windenburg 😊

[coastmoor]

The door-well

The door-well To the north transept of Bath Abbey Or looking out From the rooftops of Durham Cathedral With a view of Her Majesty’s Prison A police raid at Sunday night’s discotheque Was it Van Mildert’s portrait Which looked down on me Or was it someone more revered On the wall in the dining hall A photograph, of a painting, in a catalogue I sat on that bench, wearing earphones A series of plaques Make the piece named Monument This was my escape to art as shelter Another photographer, this one makes a film To explore yoga, meditation, healing I tell a friend, also a photographer About this mindful body of works To share in the shelter of these images Another message; about rejection Or is it about perseverance Then the grateful words on non-avoidance If I do not take a risk Will I find the wonderment of shelter May Day Lying on the headland grass I do have a photograph When I wore a green and silver shirt As an emblem for a lover seeking shelter Who, earlier in the day If truth be told Had already Found his accommodation Though that photograph is not at hand Available from Amazon See more of Christopher's work Here http://dlvr.it/RNfGYw Hope you like it