Once in a while I get serious about things, usually about 3AM when no one’s looking, which probably means I’ve gotten blitzed on whatever is handy and performed the entire “Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall” album to whoever happens to be staggering through my squalid excuse for a living room. My “guests”, as I charitably call them, tend to pass out with their heads lolling on their chests around about “Puttin’ On the Ritz”, or even sooner once they realize I’m not Rufus Wainwright. And I mean really. Is anyone Rufus Wainwright?
But today is Family Day here in Ontario, which I really have to talk to you about, so I’m getting serious in broad daylight and staying straight until I finish this post. Well OK maybe a little spliff. That’s awesome, what was your name again, sweetie?
So. Family Day. In the 1980’s, when hair was big but conservative minds had shrunk smaller than a gnat’s asshole, the American right-wing co-opted the word “family” in such homely, Orwellian phrases as “Family Values”. Which was code for “Get The Fags”, conservatives not being generally celebrated for their snappy conversation or their subtlety.