Fran Lebowitz is attractive

I have a friend who resembles Fran Lebowitz. I've always thought this was an attractive quality because I've always considered Fran Lebowitz attractive. From the first time I saw Fran—in the late 1970s on the back cover of Metropolitan Life, which somehow, thank God, had made it into my childhood home in rural New Hampshire—I thought she was handsome. And from the moment I read the first paragraph of the first essay in the book, I knew I was not alone in the world:

"12:35 P.M. - The phone rings. I am not amused. This is not my favorite way to wake up. My favorite way to wake up is to have a certain French movie star whisper to me softly at two-thirty in the afternoon that if I want to get to Sweden in time to pick up my Nobel Prize for Literature I had better ring for breakfast. This occurs rather less often than one might wish."

So much is conveyed in that opening paragraph. First, we know she is a lesbian. Or at least, I, as an adolescent, knew it. The person whispering softly in her ear is a woman. There simply is no debating it. Second, we know there is room service, one of the great pleasures in life, about which I had not known when I was 12. I have since become acquainted. Third, there is an aversion to the telephone, which indicates rational thought. Fourth, there is a swaggering quality a bit like a Handsome Sailor if the Handsome Sailor had not been a dimwit.

So, there you have it. Intelligence, sapphism, and good looks. So if someone suggests you remind them of Fran Lebowitz, you should take it as a compliment.

Acerbic, brilliant, dandy dyke

Did I ever tell you the story about running into Fran Lebowitz on the street in the West Village? It was on a corner not far from the basketball courts near the Waverly Theater. I don't remember exactly which street. It was a nice day. I was wearing a blue seersucker jacket, which I remember because I wondered if Fran, the dandy, liked my seersucker jacket. Anyway, as I was walking along with my girlfriend, I recognized Fran. (Facial recognition is my superpower.) I approached Fran with my hand extended for a handshake, saying, "Fran, it's so nice to see you out!" She looked at me like she was trying to gauge where I fell on the weirdo spectrum: dangerous lunatic or odd friendly person. Fran, if anything, is a streetwise New Yorker. Nonetheless, she shook my hand. Still with the suspicious look, but she was game, and I got a hint of a smile. Was it the seersucker? What on earth did I mean by "so nice to see you out"? In hindsight, it is a loaded choice of words, since Fran, whom everyone seems to know is a lesbian, has never officially come out, according to Michael Musto in the Village Voice. In any case, we can see a lot more of the brilliant Fran Lebowitz on Monday, Nov. 22, when Public Speaking, the Martin Scorsese-directed documentary about her view of the world, debuts on HBO. In the preview, Fran says she does not necessary promote public speaking, but rather, "As a general directive, I would really advise public listening."

Funny Grrrls

Today's topic, suggested by another super sexy reader, is this: The persistent and annoying myth of the humorless lesbian. I know, I know. It's such a bore. But, alas, the stereotype does persist. Recently I watched a few minutes of a very bad movie on Logo, and even a film about gay men contained a cheap shot at so-called humorless lesbians. Why is this so? I think we should approach this problem two ways: 1. We will refute the myth with examples of lesbians who are funny, and 2. We can examine why this specious criticism began and in whose interest it endures.

First things first. Let's establish the truth. Lesbians are funny. In fact, I, the Sapphist Gazetteer, am officially funny, as I like to remind anyone within earshot when I'm grouchy. Indeed, I was voted Class Clown during my senior year in high school. There you have it. But if that is not enough evidence, let us consider the following list of some of the most celebrated comics of our time: Lily Tomlin, Ellen Degeneres, Jane Lynch, Wanda Sykes, Rosie O'Donnell, Sandra Bernhard, and, uh, Stamie. Out lesbians, all. (In case you forgot how funny Rosie was before she went off the rails, take a look at her in the old days doing standup.) And even when we look beyond the specific category of comedienne, we find lesbians and queer women in popular culture who are known for their comedic roles. They include: Cynthia Nixon (who won an Emmy for best supporting comedic actress on Sex and the City), Portia de Rossi (see her doing the chicken dance on Arrested Development), and Queen Latifah (have you seen Beauty Shop?)

Even if we go back a ways, we find queer women who are funny. Tallulah Bankhead, for example. Very funny. Very queer. And Patsy Kelly, who debuted on Broadway in the 1920s and had a long film and television career, including a role in one of my personal favorites Please Don't Eat the Daisies (with Doris Day!) and the original Freaky Friday (with Jodie Foster...) Patsy Kelly proudly called herself a dyke. And she's looking pretty cute in the cap and pea coat.

There are also countless other lesbians in the world of comedy who should not be overlooked. They include Lea DeLaria, comedienne and jazz singer, who was the first openly gay comic (male or female) to appear on national television in the US; Sara Gilbert from Roseanne—who has a new morning TV show called The Talk on CBS; Amanda Bearse from Married with Children. Alison Bechdel created the classic lesbian comic strip, Dykes to Watch Out For. And let's not forget the many, many hilarious lesbian stand-up comics: Kate Clinton, Julie Goldman, Marga Gomez, Vickie Shaw, Jennie McNulty, Suzanne Westenhoefer, etc. You get the picture, and I'm getting tired of making the list.

But perhaps the best piece of evidence I can throw at the humorless lesbian bullshit is Fran Lebowitz. Everyone should have a copy of her 1978 classic, Metropolitan Life, which somehow made it into my rural New Hampshire childhood home and gave me hope that I might escape my surroundings. In one piece, Fran examines the pros and cons of children. On the pro side, she writes: "Children do not sit next to one in restaurants and discuss their preposterous hopes for the future in loud tones of voice." On the downside, she writes: "Notoriously insensitive to subtle shifts in mood, children will persist in discussing the color of a recently sighted cement-mixer long after one's own interest in the topic has waned." Oh, it's still genius.

Now that we have established that lesbians are truly and officially funny, on to the next question: Why does this myth persist? In addition to the cheap shots present in gay boy films on Logo (tsk,tsk), I have to believe that part of the problem is straight people. Not to blame heterosexuals with broad brush strokes (after all, I do love many of them dearly), but it's possible that lesbians might be mistaken as humorless because we generally do not show appreciation for the Jackass series.