The other night, auntie em took me by the hand, sat me on the couch, and then force-fed me so much LSD that I willingly sat down to watch Treat Williams sing his lil’ ol heart out. Poor Berger. I hardly knew ya’…
No, really, it wasn’t a bad movie; in fact, I really enjoyed it. I mean, I got to see Beverly’s boobies (a few times!); I was blessed with a Mrs. Edna Ann Garrett Gaines showing us the facts of life by shaking her groove thang; Nell Carter (a much thinner, much more alive Nell Carter) lyrically mooned over White boys (White boys are so sexy/Legs so long and lean/Love those sprayed-on trousers/Love the love machine…); and Ellen Foley (that first blond chick from Night Court’s earlier days) showed up to lick her lips at the Black boys (Black boys are nutritious/Black boys fill me up/Black boys are so damn yummy/They satisfy my tummy…).
So, yeah, it was a fun night.
But! But, auntie em–although a devout fan of the movie–cannot say just who “Steve” was in relation to Sheila. I searched on the web myself, and I still don’t know. (Although, I did find out that Donnie Dacus–“Woof” in the movie–played for Chicago in the late '70s. That just goes to prove his coolness factor.)
So, who was Steve? Was he Sheila’s boyfriend? Brother? Cousin? Neighbor? Meth dealer? House OBGYN? Who, damnit, who?
Oh, and before I go, I’d like to share with you a little bit of song I picked up from the movie:
I’ve learned to hate Steve. I’ve even come to loathe Miles Chapin, the actor who played the ineffable Steve. Every web site I’ve seen thus far references his character as “Steve.” No last name, no relation, no other involvement with the characters other than to be constantly kicked out of the car by Berger.
You are no longer a joyful mystery to me, Steve. You’re a surname-less ass.
Oh, Honey, don’t hate Steve. Steve was but a pawn in the game. Everybody’s patsy. Rumor has it, in fact, that he and Donnie Dacus are currently engaging in a little patsy of their own.
I have no idea who Steve was, having never seen the movie, but I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed the story of how you two met that auntie em posted in my advice to the lovelorn thread…
Steve and Donnie, eh? Considering the position of the give-and-take inherent in some gay men’s nocturnal naughties, how funnily apropos is it that Donnie’s name in the movie is “Woof”?
Well, him preferring men-flavored lollipops aside, I still hate Steve. At the very least he could have come out of the ambiguous character closet and announced to the world just who he was in that flick. There should be no shame. I’ll accept him for being the generic weenie–as long as he puts an end to my lack of an answer!
Don’t let auntie em fool you, LizardChurch; she knows that I was hooking on 10th and Vine (caught up in a torrid fantasy of hoping my female Richard Gere would come by and make me a Pretty Man) when she dropped by, gave me $50 and a Happy Meal with the offer for me to follow her around forever.
I suppose there’s love, but for me there’s mostly the Happy Meals with which she supplies me. Pretty soon I’ll have all of the Hot Wheels and I can decide whether to stick around for the next wave of cheeseburgers and Transformers. It’s all good.
