Sing!

See I really couldn't sing, I could never really sing

Couldn't really sing

If you are a gay man who enjoys a good show tune, as I do, and you find yourself in New York on a Monday evening then there is only one place you should be. That place is Splash, for Musical Mondays.  Despite the fact that it is a Monday night, the place is packed.  Such is the allure of show tunes (and maybe the fact that the very well toned barman are all semi naked wearing just shorts or speedos). The format is straightforward – the gays all stand facing the giant screens down one side of the room upon which they play video clips from musical films or performances of musical numbers from shows. They play clips done by the big gays icons: Liza, Barbra, Patti; they play covers by the cast of Glee and even  play a rather interesting version of “I Know Him So Well” by John Barrowman and Daniel Boys. The gays in the room all sing along, some of the more adventurous ones climbing onto their barstools or the stage to do a routine too. The first time I ever went some guy had seemingly brought his own broomstick with him just so he could do a routine to Defying Gravity from Wicked.  There is no broomstick this time but that number is greeted with a massive cheer/squeal from the audience.  I wonder why they don’t have a similar thing back in London? My evening is made when they show Angela Lansbury (my idol) and Bea Arthur doing Bosom Buddies.  The lyrics from that song gave me the inspiration for my 1st blog post.

I get into a discussion with my friends about the quality of the gay men in New York.  I make the observation that a very large proportion of them have big arms.  It seems to be the thing to have. I don’t have big arms. We naturally progress onto talking about how attractive the gays are facially and how the general attractiveness is unrelated to the arms.  I introduce the Americans to the term BOBFOC (“Body off Baywatch, Face off Crimewatch”) to describe those people with the big arms but a face that only a mother could love. In return I learn the equivalent American phrase, Butterface (“everything but her face”). I feel like a cultural exchange student. There is a great photo op of me with Greg and Ray, Gay Number One and Two, who do an official handover, passing me between them like a big gay baton.

The handover

After the show tunes is a live performance by Kate Pazakis, who is a musical comedy genius with a great voice. She plays Diva Tag with another singer. This sees the two of them singing I Am Telling You from Dreamgirls, taking over singing each time they get tagged. Greg introduces me to Kate after she has finished her set. She will be in Provincetown the same time I am there so will hopefully get to see her perform again. I don't suggest a duet though.

Never really sing

Tuesday I walk pretty much the length of Manhattan and over the Brooklyn Bridge for good measure. I return sporting a nice farmer’s tan. The evening I catch up with a friend called Bill who is currently working on making a musical version of the film But I’m a Cheerleader.  It’s a film we once did a screening of for the gays at work and I loved it. I’m excited about there being a musical adaptation.  We are joined by Ray, Gay Number Two who has been working, directing a play that opens this week.  The gays are such creative types.  


As if I didn’t get a big enough fix of show tunes the day before we go for drinks at Marie’s Crisis.  The place, probably no bigger than my lounge back home, consists of a bar along the back wall and a piano at the side. Behind the piano sits a guy who has an encyclopaedic knowledge of show tunes which he plays while the patrons sing along. There is no screen with the lyrics, it’s not karaoke.  I soon realise there are some big gaps in my musical theatre knowledge as there are some songs I barely know the chorus to, let alone the full song. The crowd is very friendly though. I chat to a couple of random people. I also keep trying to chat to the drinks waiter as he has the most amazing deep voice that makes me go a little weak at the knee. I got through several gins.




“See I really couldn't sing, I could never really sing” 
Lyrics from Sing from the musical A Chorus Line