"Gabrielle, The Wine Almost Fell Into My Shoes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

This almost non-sequitir  line is my new favorite, after a recent viewing of "Valley Of The Dolls."  Remember, when Jennifer (Sharon Tate) goes off to France, with that faux French director, to make so-called "art films," but even Patty Duke, as Neely (that's ME!) calls "Nudies?????????"

She makes this film where she is this Catherine Denueve "Belle De Jour" wannabe.  After a sexual encounter, she knocks over the wine, is practically thrown against the wall, like a piece of used property, then gets up from the bed, facing the camera, bareback, as the camera cuts to a view of Paris, ending the film.

It is a hoot! But she needs the money for Tony who is suffering in a sanitarium from Huntington's Chorea, and she has to go back to the states, and weather a battle with breast cancer.  The suicide scene always gets to me because of what I know eventually happened to Sharon Tate herself, the poor thing.

But this does not stop me from singling out "Valley Of The Dolls," as THE film to watch for Pride, as it singularly tells all our stories.

Let me take you on a cursive journey, and explain why!

                               We all start out, growing up in some suburban enclave.  Our parents and adults around us are so provincial, they are satisfied, but not us.  We go through school thinking we are superior to our schoolmates from the day we were born, which we are, as, for the most part, they are idiots!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   We can't  wait to get away from this hick burg, and do as soon as we are able!

Oh, my God, do we yearn for a dream!!!!!!!!!!!!  And if you are raised on the East Coast, as I was, that dream can only mean conquering New York.  You take that train, knowing you are better than anyone else, hungering for excitement, glamour, all the things you have been previously denied by suburban provincialism, because the people in your goddamned town could not recognize how serious, and superior to them, you really were!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, you get your first gig, in a show.  You are given a great number.  The cast and crew love you, you know you have got the voice, and you are doing your best work.  You are as gracious as can be.  But some over aged fag hag resents you, and kicks you out.  You leave the stinkin' show--with dignity--

but latch on to something else.

Next, you get a telethon gig.  You are perky and wholesome, destined to become America's singing sweetheart!  This leads to a Hollywood screen test, and a studio contract.  You have GAY POWER!

But can you withstand the pressure?  Now comes the test!

OK, now you have the house in CA, and the pool.  But you are starting to get wardrobe fittings with fag designers, and your husband, once a press agent, has become your lackey.  You make your first mistake by getting rid of him, only you don't know it.  You still have POWER, but no support to help you harness it.  Left on your own, it spells trouble.  As friends say, you thrive on it.

You win an Oscar!  For a film in which you never sang, let alone barely spoke a word!  You have shown the world that you are BETTER than anybody!  Can this be maintained????

No, because after the Oscar, with all the power at your disposal, you are cast in a period musical, and expect everyone to revolve around YOUR schedule!  Why shouldn't they listen to you--YOU are the one, bringin' in the bucks!  And that camera man is frying you!  Crucifixion!!!!!!!!!!!  You tell everyone off, just like you wanted to do, with your school mates.  You fail to realize you are still acting out your childhood and adolescence!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Things can only get worse from here.  Just because you have GAY POWER does not mean things are rosy.  You catch your fag husband in bed with some studio whore, who he says makes him feel "nine feet tall," when he isn't even six inches, if you know what I mean.  And you are sick and tired of being a beard!!!!!!!!!  Where do you go from here?

You take a flight to Frisco, ending up in some cheap dive, with a man you have never seen before!  We have all been there, darlings!  Only he looks like a young Sylvester Stallone, and you pass out from pills!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You awake in the sanitarium, where you should have been.  Nothing but dyke nurses and ugly, orthopedic spinsters.  You have NO intention of socializing with KOOKS!  A chance encounter with Tony revives your determination to make it out of there.  David Merrick offers you a chance to do a musical for him.  You take it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

While in rehearsals for the Merrick show, you go to a party and encounter your old show biz nemesis.  You give it to her, but good, and flush her wig down the toilet, like she deserves.  She's some ancient granny, and YOU are the star that is on top!

So, you are cast in "Tell Me, Darling!," a big, splashy musical. You are its star!  But you still need those pills for anxiety!  Believe me, I know!  You end up trying to go on the for the first act, in your second act costume.  It won't work, and then your Streisand wannabe understudy steps in, and replaces you.  You should not have let THAT happen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now--NOW!!!!!!!!--you come to the moment of reckoning.  Church bells tolling, as you scream for everyone you have alienated!  You have still got the talent, but have you destroyed  yourself, like Helen Lawson said?  Not ME, darlings!  You just keep saying that, and make a comeback!

So, see?  "Valley Of The Dolls" is the story of all of us.  It is MY story, and yours!  Which is why I suggest watching the movie tomorrow, with plenty of alcohol fused drinks, dressed in a Travilla gown!

As for me girls--"I said I've HAD it!  Beat it!  I said I am through for the day!!!!!!!!!!!!!"