November 14, 2003

Several years ago I wrote a very short musical about a guy coming out to his mother. It was hysterically funny, if flawed, but as there are very few production opportunities for ten-minute musicals, it has been lying in the desk drawer gathering dust.

Here is a lyric from it, sung by the mother.

Some Playboys would be nice and
We’ll sign you up for track.
We can throw away the Streisand.
We’ll get the minister’s advice and
Get you back.
Don’t worry; you will heal.
If you feel
You’re not okay,
You forgot some
Of the flotsam
Is departing
Starting
Today.

You won’t hang out with bikers.
You’ll drive a Chevy van,
Stop your weekly trips to Riker’s,
And throw those movies of Jeff Stryker’s
In the can.
We’ll hire you a whore
You’ll adore;
See this my way:
It might hurt, you
Know, but virtue
Stops the smarting
Starting
Today.

Darling, we can beat this.
Dreams can come true.
Doors will open to
You if you’re hetero.
We can obsolete this.
In your soul,
You’re straight
And whole.
This will be better, oh
Wait
And see!

You’ll stay away from disco.
We’ll dress you all in plaid.
I’ll use lard instead of Crisco,
And we won’t visit San Francisco
Or your dad.
We’ll make this disappear;
You’re not queer,
You are not gay.
‘Cause you’re not having drama,
And, besides, you don’t tell mama;
You will not go to gay bars
And you’ll pick up girls at Zabar’s.
We’ll change your chromosome, oh,
You don’t have to be a homo!
Reinforce that
On the course that
We’ll be charting
Starting
Today!

It’s the most problematic song in the piece, because it’s not really funny so much as clever, and too clever by half, but still I kind of like it.

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