Slip Sliding Away

As Barbara and I and another couple watched the Piccolo Spoleto-presented fashion show, "Fashion and Relieve 93," my mind began to wander despite the lithe and sultry models undulating up and down the runway. Prurient thought overload reflex? Lack of interest? Neither; it's just something that happens to me more often than it should and sometimes even when someone is talking to me, unfortunately.

It's sort of a word, thought and/or image association thing that triggers my imagination and sends me drifting off into varying degrees of surrealistic meanderings.

Tonight it was easy. The theme of this show was future fashions and it had a theatrical aspect, as well.

I began thinking about some possible fashion news of the future among the glitterati—the actors, actresses and entertainers.

First, I saw headlines of Madonna's new look of 94. "Madonna is emphasizing yet more leather, including a harness. Ascribing her inspiration to Roy Rogers' late stallion, Trigger, Madonna is quoted as saying, 'That big stud was into leather, whips, and self-bondage long before it was in vogue. And have you checked out the size of that unit?"

Cher presents her "Den Mother Delilah" look for women hoping to lure a previously untapped pool of young male companionship.

David Letterman, from his home, where he usually can be found wearing casual clothes such as sweatshirts and jeans, leaks that he will have an endorsement in '94 featuring a close-up of his famous smiling grin—for The Gap stores.

The fact that many male homosexuals seek careers in fashion caused an instant segue into the gays in the military dilemma and I envisioned these headlines:

Senator Sam Nunn, in 1994, will be modeling the US Navy uniforms under the nickname of "Bunky the Sailor Boy." He plans to recommend that all naval vessels be doubled in length in order to permit enlargement of sleeping quarters and protect the chastity of defenseless heteroswabbies. He will also strongly urge that all servicemen's boxer short flies be sewn shut.

In hair fashion, Senator Strom Thurmond will receive a special environmental recycling award from Vice President Al Gore for using hair transplants made from the remnants of defective Barbie Doll wigs.

Relatedly, the National Endowment for the Arts, Hues Appreciation Committee, will also give the legendary political leader special recognition for discovering a shade of orange found nowhere else in nature or synthetics.

President Clinton, in a continuing effort to reward those who got him elected, will appoint Raphael DeLandy and Sean Morningstar, the construction work guy and the Native American in the disco group, "The Village People," as special assistants to the Labor Secretary and the director of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, respectively.

A short film documentary will debut, featuring Senator John Warner and other members of the Armed Services Committee as they solicit complaints from servicemen about their fears of being pyreed upon by marauding bands of gay military men in their showers and living quarters. It will be entitled "The Whining Game."

The Reverend Jerry Falwell will publicly admit that he has a natural flair for women's fashion design and conclude, therefore, that he must certainly be gay.

Very shortly thereafter, the Reverend Pat Robertson will make a similar revelation based on his confessed preference for Judy Garland records and obsession with track lighting.

Within hours of these stunning announcements, a worldwide phenomenon occurs, as millions of self-respecting gays begin returning to their respective closets.

Rush Limbaugh, ultra-conservative media personality, will go undercover as a flaming, overweight drag queen, "The New Divine," in an effort to learn more about the gay political agenda and suffer irreversible ego damage when he learns he is socially incompatible within both sexual orientations.

Another thought segue back to fashion:

Actor Richard Gere will leave supermodel Cindy Crawford because she "flat out refuses to get rid of that unsightly mole. It's soooo gross," he carped.

In a corollary story, Tibet will declare war on the US, as a direct result of Mr. Gere's inspired music video tribute to that beleaguered country's spiritual leader, "Dahli Lama Ding Dong."

Back to the gays in the military thought process:

Broadway actor Harvey Firestein will join the Marines, pose seductively for the "all we want is a few good men" poster and start a petition to replace "From the Halls of Montezuma" with "Feelings."

Senator Bob Dole will snap sardonically: "I told you this would happen."

An incensed Pat Buchanan will claim there is a ban on male heterosexuals in women's fashion design and demand that it be lifted immediately. He will vehemently reject any suggestions that heteros should simply not announce their sexual orientation. That would be asking them to lie. "It's a matter of morality," he would rant.
Senator Jesse Helms will boast of having secret video tapes of gay airmen painting Robert Mapplethorpe-style pictures as well as images of Liza Minelli, on the fuselages of their planes.

Over 90% of the members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences admit in an anonymous poll that for the 1993 Academy Awards they had initially nominated Jaye Davidson of "The Crying Game" for best supporting ACTRESS.

My reverie was interrupted by Barbara's nudge. It was intermission. As I ordered our drinks at the concession booth, I wondered what would happen if you laced all the beverages at a political convention with sodium pentothal.

A hypnotic gaze enveloped my eyes, as Senator Bob Packwood made his opening remarks: "My fellow patriots, I love this great country of ours. (Pause.) But not nearly as much as I love doing the Big Nasty. Bring on the babes!"

Mayor Joseph P. Riley, Jr.: "I'd like to thank the people of the city of Charleston for allowing me to make the $250,000 loan to the Spoleto Festival. Believe me, you will be rewarded ten-fold. And I will be rewarded next year when Gian Carlo keeps his promise to rename this even the 'Joeleto Festival'."

Sis Inabinet: "I will be fighting mad if this base stays on the 'Hit List,' but you people are going to be on something that rhymes with the 'Hit List' if you don't elect me to the House next year."

Reality returned in the form of an irritated voice in my ear: "Sir, would you please move, if you've gotten your order?"

On my way back to my seat, I wondered if I had not married whether my skeletal remains would have been found in my musty Queen Street apartment by two of my friends, both arguing over whose month it had been to come by and nudge me out of my reveries.