Over the years I have enjoyed hearing and watching several of my transgender and/or crossdressing acquaintances perform on stage. No matter how small the venue. Most recently before the pandemic hit the transgender – cross dresser support group my partner Liz and I are part of met to watch or perform karaoke. A couple turned out to be amazing singers, able to look and sound the part of feminine participants.
Before karaoke and before I became bored with the whole drag queen scene, I used to go to the occasional drag show. In fact, Liz and I’s first date was a drag show in a gay bar. Regardless of the entertainment, the date must have gone OK because we are still together ten years later. As I wrote though, the overall scene was becoming boring to me as you can only see so many cis-gay guys attempt to mimic the same songs so often. Plus, perhaps the most important reason I was becoming bored was the further I went into living my life as a transgender woman, the less I wanted to be compared with the drag queens on the stage. The opposite was true only if the performer appeared to be impossibly feminine. Then I was envious.
Ironically, over the years, I only had the chance to participate in one “pageant”. It was put on in Cleveland, Ohio by one of the earliest transvestite groups I was a member of. Since I was a seasoned radio disc jockey used to being in front of groups, I thought why not? Well, I learned quickly the “why not” was because I had no rhythm what so ever and could not financially come up with a proper pageant dress. The best I could hope for was the consolation prize I earned. My stage “career” as a transgender woman was over even though I had an acquaintance in Columbus, Ohio who tried for years to start a “all cross dressing girl band.” I was so bad at mastering any kind of a musical instrument I had to turn her down. The best that could have happened was a guest shot on the Jerry Springer Show
I suppose I just am envious on several fronts. I know Connie is a musician and I know a couple others who are singers. I have met some rather large drag queens who could do some dramatic moves in impossibly high heels without losing their wigs. My daughter’s hair solon is co owned by a gay man who can cross dress himself into a beautiful blond woman. Along the way I have been “ordered” to sing a karaoke song of my choice by a butch lesbian with a cowboy hat (another blog post.) And, maybe most notably missed out on a group of women strippers visiting a lesbian bar.
We only live once. Maybe I should relax and stop looking so hard for the next adventure.