Thoughts From the Bed Pan

‘As we that are left grow old’, there’s a phrase to strike terror into an aging ‘homosexualist’. As I approach my dotage and this recession/depression takes huge chunks out of my superannuation which was never enough anyway, I’m left wondering ‘what the …?’ My entire financial forward planning is now based on a Lotto win.

Was it just two years ago that I sat back thinking, “well if all else fails at least when I turn sixty five I’ll have a small income supplemented by a smaller pension to keep me in lattes and Polident”. Now I’m facing a future of Nescafe` and unstable dentures.
I had my chances; I recklessly spent one large windfall on airfares and cocaine in 1988, and reluctantly spent another on surgeons in 2003. I could’ve bought a house but somehow New York seemed like a much better proposition. I thought that if you’re going to NYC then naturally you fly first class. There was a joke often told by my friends, “How do you make a small fortune?” answer, “Give Peter a large one and wait six months”. We all laughed, some of us louder than others.

I don’t blame anyone for my decisions and god knows I had a blast making them but on reflection they may not have been altogether wise.

I have a much older friend who now lives in a private nursing home, which luckily for him is in the Eastern Suburbs. His main fear when he moved was that he would be forgotten out there in the ‘burbs’, because we Sydney queens are notorious for never travelling far from our comfort zone. You know the old saying, ‘out of sight, where’s what’s his name again?’ Luckily he has enough money to get by rather well. With global warming I’ll be lucky if there is an Ice Flow left to leave me on. I’ll be thrown into some institution in Tempe, possibly the Tip.

So I’ve been pondering my future and what’s to become of me. I’ve always been, as one of my harshest critics described, ‘a survivor’ and I’m sure I’ll get by but I want to more than just survive, I still want to have a ‘life’. I don’t see myself lining up at Mathew Talbot hoping for a bed at night but …

Is this just a problem for us ‘gay folk’? Does our lifestyle promote instant gratification and, pardon the pun, bugger the consequences? Maybe it’s just my generation; a generation that through the eighties wasn’t expected to live much into the nineties so some of us had a tendency to squander our ‘dosh’ and now we’re rather surprised at how old we’ve become.

I worry that the ‘gaylings’ of today seem destined to head down this same path to penury. Perhaps now might be the right time to revisit the wise words of one learned gent by the name of Micawber, “… annual income twenty shillings, annual expenditure twenty one shillings, result misery’.

Old age creeps up on you alarmingly fast. If I was to offer any advice, which is never a good idea because it always has a way of coming back and biting you on the bum, it would be to somehow find the means to occasionally deny yourself that next ‘NEW’ thing and put a little aside because hopefully you will lead a long, long FABULOUS life.

Give Me Chaos Give Me Joy

A while ago I wrote a tongue in cheek piece for The Sydney Morning Herald called “I Hate Theatre”, which of course I clearly don’t. I love theatre; theatre at its very best can be the catalyst for great changes within our society. It can open up our minds, it can expand our consciousness and it can allow us to be transported away from our safe cosy world and explore other possibilities. Think of ‘Angels in America’ or ‘The Crucible’ or ‘Oh, What a Lovely War’. Even at its worst it will create discussion and provoke critical thought. All theatre will provoke some kind of emotive response.

Not all theatre needs to be a gut wrenching emotional roller coaster that leaves you an exhausted emotional basket case at the end of it. Some theatre can achieve it’s purpose in a much more gentle and surprising way. Theatre, today, is everywhere from proscenium arches to pubs, from stage to street and from arenas to alleyways. Theatre seems to be popping up in the most unusual places and when you least expect it.

As our lives become busier and more hectic we risk becoming more distant and isolated from each other, any sense of the ridiculousness of life and the things that once upon a time tickled our fancy until we cried tears of pure joy is removed and we become grim faced frowners who rush, head down, from home to office to gym to home. Every now and then we need to be taken out of the dull reality we surround ourselves with on a day to day basis. This is where this new version of spontaneous theatre has found a welcome niche and made us stop and smile, groups of actors, artists and everyday citizens are coming together to perform seemingly impromptu pieces in everyday situations.

In New York a group called ‘Improv Everywhere’ organise mini productions and places them in unusual and unexpected venues. They bring colour, light, comedy and spontaneity to alleviate the very humdrum day to day existence that so many of us fight through. Their reason for being is simple, they “cause chaos and joy in public places”. They have organised large groups of people to meet complete strangers at JFK Airport, performed musicals in a food court and in Grand Central Station, froze time for five minutes to the confusion of commuters.


In Antwerp, Belgium, another group decided that they should perform a number from 'The Sound of Music' in the main railway terminal of the city. Can you imagine the Austrians after a long hard day at the bank trying to catch their evening train home being confronted by a hundred citizens dancing to ‘Lets Start at the Very Beginning’ as Julie Andrews serenades them in English.




The internet has spread these performance pieces across the globe and more groups have been formed in some of the strangest of places. In 2008, in Russia, ‘Improv Everywhere’ were invited to collaborate with a local group and organise a ‘Sleep In’ at a furniture shop. Their mission was to enter the shop, pick various pieces of furniture, a couch or a chair and sleep. This caused no end of consternation of the sales woman until finally she called the Police and the performers were moved on ... after the organiser’s names and addresses were taken down. The Police didn’t charge them with any thing because they couldn’t clearly define what crime, if any, had taken place, which is just as well because I am sure that the Russian Police are not known for their sense of humour. It must have taken great courage for these people to do what they did.

Funnily enough when some of these events were tried in Sydney good old fashioned narrow mindedness raised its ugly head. A mass drawing of ‘Valentines Day Hearts’ at Taylor Square, Darlinghurst, where hundreds of people young and old, gay and straight, gathered on Valentines Day 2008 and with coloured chalk drew hearts and left messages of love on the pavement. In Sydney a city that prides itself on being progressive, enlightened and open to new things our city council responded promptly with street cleaners and hoses, within 12 hours they had erased all the evidence.

Don’t we all need a little chaos and joy in our life at some time ... especially when we least expect it?

The Queer Bill of Rights

For thirty one years we’ve been marching. We’ve been marching against discrimination. We’ve been marching against a disease that everyday, still takes our brothers and sisters in ever increasing numbers. We’ve been marching against inaction, self interest, prejudice and greed.

We’ve won a few battles but our march continues.

Our warriors don’t have tanks and armour; our warriors wear overalls, suits and high heels. We don’t have weapons of mass destruction hidden in our borderless country; our weapons are humour, wit and strength of character. When we march we don’t march for conquest, we march for recognition, for understanding and for compassion. Our uniform is rainbow not khaki, we have no need of camouflage yet too many of us are forced to hide.

We count each small victory as a stepping stone. We don’t see defeats we see hurdles.
We see hope rather than despair; we feel elation rather than desperation.
Our troops live not only in Darlinghurst and Newtown but also in New York, London, Beijing, Harare and Tehran. We are not restricted to any one country or religion and no amount of denial by narrow minded bigots will ever change that.

We are a universal nation that is inclusive not exclusive. We welcome into our hearts all that seek healing and peace. We do not discriminate because of gender, race, sexuality or religion.

There are those who will persecute us, threaten us and in too many cases harm us. We will no longer simply lie quietly and die. We do not believe that we have any more of a right to exist than anyone else but neither will we accept that our right is any the less.

We know we have made mistakes but from each mistake we have learned and grown. We learn our lessons the hard way but we never have to learn them twice.

We will not stop and we will not be stopped.

Ahead of us there are the glimmers of hope that give us the strength and courage to continue this fight. Yet still we need new treatment regimes, greater accessibility to medication in developing countries and we need, now more than ever, to work together to bring about an end to the policy of greed, self interest and selfishness that keep medication from being made available to all those who are in need.

We need the help and support of ALL our elected leaders every day not just every three or five years when elections are due. We are not apart from society; we are a valuable and necessary part of it.

We’re here. Were queer get used to us.