This past Saturday night was New York's infamous Black Party held at Roseland, a big dance/concert space in midtown. Whether you were up for it or dead set against it you were certainly aware of it -(and I met both in my travels - it's sort of like the Oscars - everyone likes to bitch about it but everyone still watches).
Because there were no cameras or cellphones I did a little drawing of a Black Partygoer (and truth to tell, I saw only three guys on their cells while I was there.. it was heavenly to see people actually invested in each other rather than cruising on Grindr).
For me, the day, Saturday March 24th, really started Friday night. My best friend Matt was in from San Fran and as a birthday present, took me out to dinner and drinks. We considered going to the Hookies (the escort awards also at Roseland) and I was excited when I saw host Alec Mapa scrambling up 9th Avenue towards the venue around 9:30 (the show started at 10 so I was like "well, that's not starting on time") but once we started hanging out at Posh and I Jolened a cute guy that we shared a couch with we just couldn't tear ourselves away from the place, the music was excellent - we got drunk, er, uhm 'had birthday drinks' and lipsynched to "Vogue" (not surprisingly we both know the little monologue interlude thing down pat) and Black Box's "Everybody Everybody" (from their Dreamland album which is pretty awesome- probably one of the more underrated from the early 90s.. and yes I have it on cassette and it's in the drawer next to Bananarama, Climie Fisher and... Rick Astley DON'T JUDGE ME!! LOL btw their version of Earth, Wind and Fire's "Fantasy" is really awesome - see below).
The next day at the Black Party Expo, I ran into my studly friends from the Eagle as well as Colton Ford (who has a new single coming out from a forthcoming album), Kennedy Carter, CB Kirby and watched as various rent boys took the stage to show off. It's a fun daytime event for the gays who want to meet and meat the porn stars and see them perform without paying the $140 for the Black Party ticket.
Lots of leather companies represented and a few video companies (and fewer bareback companies than I'd noticed in previous years - Lucas Entertainment still dominates though - I can't imagine why Raging Stallion and their crew aren't represented but then, I guess the economy - and pirating - has really fucked over the entire industry). I knew it was time to leave when I got invited to participate in a jello wrestling match. Just say no, just say no I heard Nancy Reagan whisper in my ear.
After a generous disco nap, I got up around 4:30 in the morning, showered and got dressed in a kind of super slo-mo "I don't know or care when I'm arriving" kind of way. I ended up arriving around 6:30 and spent three hours dancing, schmoozing and, in one case, making out with the boyfriend of a friend of mine. I felt like a whore but I think that's the whole point of the Black Party.
Along the way I watched a bukkake scene on stage that I would later christen "Bukkake Kubuki" (since the whole evening had a Japanese theme) which one friend suggested should be the name of a weekly event (I agree). My friend Barbara who smudges the place beforehand showed up in a black wig that made her look less like a Geisha and more like Snooki (not the intended effect I think). I was also amused to catch one partygoer wearing a Girl Scout skirt. At first I thought it was a utilikilt until I saw the plaid pattern and then realized that it was an actual skirt. I would have asked him for a Dulche de Leche but in the context I think I would have been back at the Bukkake scene (not that there would have been anything wrong with that mind you).
I realized just how many people in New York I actually know now as at every turn I was running into friends or colleagues and in some cases, finding them in a uhm compromising position - you know the kind you want to see your friends in but you wouldn't want them to know you'd seen it (yeah, I know that's what XTube is for).
You know, like cruising a friend on Manhunt. You're both sort of embarrassed but both secretly wonder if it's worth ditching the friendship for a quick roll in the hay because you didn't realize that he had THAT under his clothes.
For the first couple hours, the music had been kind of all Junior Vasquezy - monotone beats for hours (someone actually made up a sign and held it up and walked around Norma Rae style that read: MUSIC IS BORING and I wondered if he meant ALL music or just what was playing? I was going to ask but my mind wandered and I started planning the first week of Bukkake Kabuki instead) :) but then thankfully a new DJ got on board and started playing actual songs with lyrics... and melodies. The first one was Whitney's "Greatest Love of All".
Naturally when you're dancing with 4,000 of your closest friends and a sentimental song comes on, you feel a little goofy about enjoying it...the man gene is strong ... But then suddenly the gay gene overrides that and once again you are lip-syncing with the song and doing a happy dance... and you know, feeling it. A couple of those types of songs and I was back in the glory days of the 90s when all the clubs played actual songs with lyrics and melodies - and I am pretty sure it's why I liked going out then more then than I do now, when it seems that partygoers have to do incredible amounts of drugs just to get the same happy thrill that was accomplished by one Whitney song (and of course the irony in that is not lost on me either). :)
One of the many side effects of crystal meth in the gay culture is the legacy of grim and yet jittery club goers who mechanically get through a night while simultaneously chewing off their lips. Thankfully it's fewer out on the dance floor than it used to be but it's a remarkable ripple effect when the DJ plays anything with a lyric, the whole place transformed and kind of wakes up (yes, just in case you didn't know it, I'm one of those fags that finds more happiness in the song sung by a pop culture diva than in a snort of something or popping of a pill).
Anyway, there were tons of other events happening last night after the Black Party but I couldn't be bothered, I had had fun and was done. Once I'd arrived home around noon and made lunch, I was happy just to spend the cloudy, slightly rainy Sunday indoors, on the couch and loafing for all I was worth. And I did, I sure did.
Finally, here's the version of "Fantasy" by Black Box's Dreamland album... still holds up 20 years later!
