advertisement
advertisement
|
By Paul Stroili
Friday, April 25, 2008
When I was 14, someone asked my mother if I was gay. Charlotte Stroili had heard this question before and through her halo of Merit Ultra Light smoke she exhaled: “Gay? No. That would be too easy. If he were gay, at least I’d get the occasional parade… I don’t know what the hell he is.”
I have, in effect, marketed this misconception about my sexual orientation into a solo show called “Straight Up with a Twist” that I have been performing since 1999. The culmination of this nine-year trek is currently playing Off-Broadway at the Players Theatre. Charlotte never got her parade, but she’s seen the show 12 times—this year.
In the current, politically correct climate, it is truly a challenge performing in a show that was created to mock stereotypes. Our world moves so quickly, many people attempt to simplify their manic lives by defining and categorizing others in a single glance. Who are they? What do they do? Where are they from? Who do they sleep with? And that’s all before the appetizers—which is fine if you’re a stereotype, but what about the other 99 percent of us?
The assumption that a gay man should act in a particular way or have only certain interests is just as ridiculous and offensive as saying a straight man needs to act in a certain way. It would be offensive if this assumption were made about any group, for that matter. But hold a mirror up to these generalizations and one starts to see the humor in it all.
When I (and most of my friends) make fun of something, there are no sacred cows; everyone gets it: straight, gay, Italian, German, Irish, talk show hosts, intellectuals, non-intellectuals, New Yorkers, Los Angelinos, Chicagoans… everything in our personal universe is fair game. As a result, the politically correct police have issued more than a few tickets. But the funny thing is… it’s funny. People laugh. Not at the stereotypes, but at the moronic mindset that created them.
And don’t we need funny right now? I mean, the economy is crap, we’re at war, and all anyone seems to care about is what body part Britney has shaved recently. And next year, when she shaves it on “American Idol,” it’ll get higher ratings than, well, the last episode of “American Idol.” But don’t get me started.
Here’s to mocking each other. Here’s to cracking up without apology. Here’s to recognizing that there are belly laughs to be had when we shine an affectionate light on our differences. But why listen to me? After all, I’m not a celebrity. I’m not rich. I’ll never be on a reality show. I’m the very definition of the regular guy. So why take my advice? Simple. I’m uniquely suited to encourage mockery because I have spent the past nine years ridiculing myself in public. I have trotted out every insecurity and awkward moment in my 43 years to entertain people with that joyous bonding of shared embarrassment.
When the people laugh, I can feel that camaraderie. Maybe it’s because they see a little of themselves in that acne-ridden-Member’s-Only-Jacket-sporting-size-15-shoe-wearing misfit who not only survived, but lived to laugh about it. Gay or straight, everyone has a family, and every family has that one person who doesn’t quite fit the mold. And if you had my family… well, you’d tour for nine years too. They’re just that odd.
We can’t make light of society’s obsession with stereotypes and labels. These are sensitive issues. We can’t make them go away. But we can rob them of their weight and their potential to damage potential by mocking them. It’ll be fun, I assure you.
In my case, I’ve used a solo show to poke fun at labels and I’ve seen the results. A few years back, after performing the show in Los Angeles, a man of about 60 approached me outside the theater and shook my hand. He had that firm grip that a shy, 60-year-old man uses when he really wants to make his point. “Sir…” he said. “I brought my son to the show tonight. He’s gay. I’m not. It’s been a long time since we laughed together at the same thing.”
I nearly broke into tears right there. That’s not saying much; I get misty over a good Pinot Noir. But I kept it together; I didn’t want to come across as the “overly-emotional performer.” I hate that stereotype.
Paul Stroili has been an actor for over 20 years. As a writer, his work has appeared in Los Angeles Magazine and The Chicago Tribune. His is now performing in his award-winning comedy, “Straight Up with a Twist,” off-Broadway at The Players Theatre on MacDougal Street in Greenwich Village. When not on tour, he lives in Los Angeles with his wife, Monica Kaiser and their imaginary dog. See Straight-Up.com for more information.
|
