THE small TOWN STRUT!

OK, so most of y'all know that I grew up in a small town in southwestern Ontario - translation - "the sticks".

The funny thing is, is that as soon as people hear that you grew up in rural setting, they often assume that your under-educated, ill-mannered and probably have a book about about Tonya Harding's tragic life story sitting on your coffee table. And to be completely honest with you - in many cases - they'd be right!

However, there ARE exceptions to the rule....take me, for example ;-)

I grew up in the "Village of Glencoe". Growing up, Glencoe had a population of approximately 1,800 people (although that number sky-rocketed dramatically in 1989 to an unbelieveable 2,200).

There wasn't a whole lot to do in our little town - or maybe it was just me not being interested in what it had to offer (Clue #1 - Boredom is the Devil's Playground - GET OUT, while you can).

Growing up, our town thrived on minor league baseball in the summer (no thanks) and minor league hockey in the winter (NO THANKS). I hated sports. It MIGHT have had something to do with the fact that I had eyeglasses that covered the majority of my fay and I weight 208 lbs in grade five...but nonetheless, I still hated sports. I preferred to stay at home with my Mom. I had such a great time with her growing up. Friday nights were my favourite - we'd order fish & chips from the "Tutor House" and rush home to watch DALLAS after we finished the grocery shopping. I secretly worshipped Sue Ellen's shoulder pads and her incredible tolerance for alcohol. (Clue #2 - Mom, your son's a flaming homosexual - GET HIM THE HELL OUTTA HERE, before it's too late).

As you can probably guess, playing for the "gays" in a town the size of mine, really didn't pave the way to popularity. Although I didn't declare my love for men until much later in life.... it was known. I knew. The asshole jocks at school knew. Hell, my Mother knew (even though she'll deny to this day that ......."I had NOOO idea"). Puh-lease - when your son's begging to play with your vintage Barbies - he's a poofter! Ahhhh, gotta love her for tryin' though. (Clue #3 - This town cannot handle the form of fabulous - well, at least not your form of fabulous - START STRUTTIN'!!)

I mean, now that I look back - I really didn't take major leaps and bounds to hide my inner-fag. I chose double-dutch with the girls over touch-football with the boys, EVERYTIME (...which was, OBVIOUSLY, a really stupid move)....I saw NKOTB in concert three times.....I bawled so hard when my Dad took me to see ANNIE that he had carry me out of theatre....I bought TEEN BEAT religiously....AND, I was the first in my school to sport the 8-hole Doc Marten Boot. (Clue #4 - Girl, your fashion sense is far too fierce for this hole-of-a-town - GET THE F*CK OUT!).

See where I'm going with this?

STRUTTERS: "NO! All you've f*ckin' told me is that you were fat, blind kid who had bad fashion sense and liked to play with dolls!"

Okay, fair enough. But, my point is this - I always knew that there was something bigger and better out there for me. I mean, really, can you picture this peacock stuttin' her feathers down the main drag of Glencoe? I'd have a better chance of surviving a tsumani.

Don't get me wrong - I love my hometown. I love the sense of community. I love how quiet it can be. I love the friendships that were built there. And although I know that I could never LIVE there, I also love what it's taught me. Sniff, sniff.

As Momma says, "You can take the boy out of the country, but you can never take the country out of the boy!" ....how f*cking Garth Brooks is that?

But, when you examine the facts, she's right.

Prime examples: I will always have an obsession with the Ford Mustang. I can line-dance to Shania Twain's "Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?". I can spot a mullet from a mile away. AND, most importantly, no one can perform a perfectly executed keg stand, like yours truly (....beautifully mastered through a circuit of bush parties throughout my senior year of high school, I might add).

And speaking of bush parties...I recently went to my cousin's wedding and HAD to share the experience with you - as it clearly exemplifies how a seasoned strutter (such as myself) devleoped such mad skillz, particularly in the world of strutting, partying and being fabulous.

Read on:

So, the wedding reception (the couple was married on some exotic island back in March) took place on the bride's family farm, just outside of Glencoe. I figured that I would need obscene amounts of alcohol to get through the night, so I had my 18 year-old sister pick me up in her Dodge Daytona (are you dying yet?).

We pulled up to the farm - the reception was rockin' under two (rather unsturdy) tents on the front lawn - which was fine - as I knew not to wear the Gucci shoes....simply, it would have been TOO MUCH. We park and as I get out of the Daytona, I realize that I am the ONLY one wearing a tie and blazer. Can you picture it? All 6'4" of me walking toward the crowd of jean cut-offs and banana clips. Trust me, the mullets were flying through the country air as all turned their attention to moi.

It was a little uncomfortable, to say the least. I'm the first to admit, I love attention (in case you couldn't tell) - but when the attention comes in the form of: "Should we throw empty beer bottles at the fag?" - hmmmm, not so much.

Drinks...drinks....where are the drinks?

Suddenly, I hear a blender! I look across the tent and see the bar - or lack thereof?!

The bar consisted of: one collapsable card table, one Sunbeam blender, one bartender....and about one hundred cases of Labatt 50. I knew I couldn't stomach the 50 right away, so I asked for a Strawberry Dacquiri (to match my pink shirt).

I should have asked for the 50. I was hammered by the time that I got back to my chair.

Four dacquiries, two beers and a 1/2 a shrimp ring later - I sat there, scanning the crowd -many, MANY thoughts going through my mind:

"Will acid wash ever make a come back?"
"I wonder if that camel toe hurts"
"Where did the term 'youz guyz' originate?"
"When the f*ck is dinner going to be served? - I'm STARVING".

As I peer through the sea of floral prints - trying to get my mind off of my hunger pangs - I see a maybe gaybe! And whaddya know, the maybe gaybe sees me! I examine my prey - and from where I was sitting - he was definitely "walkable" - but I needed to go in for a closer look. First though, I had to hit the little boys room (AKA: A "Johnny-On-The-Spot" that was situated by the edge of the field).

Pure class.

So, after powdering my nose, I stumble out of the porta-potty...and guess who's there? Oddly enough, my little maybe gaybe "conveniently" had to use the facilities as well. Hmmmmm......

I'm not sure if it was the late-afternoon drunken haze, the effects of food deprivation or simply the lack of eye candy.....but he was definitely cute:
Beautiful eyes. Great smile. Not a day over 20.

I thought to myself: Poor thing. If you were a couple years older (and if my Father wasn't sitting three tables away), you'd be bent over in that corn field quicker than quick!!

But, I digress.

I knew my prospect was a lost cause - so I decided to migrate back to the family and wait for the food. TWO HOURS LATER, I see these little old women come barrelling out of the house with three HUGE disposable, tin containers. Sure enough - both were chucked full with 'slaw. That's right, strutters - coleslaw! And not the creamy kind - the vinegar kind.

But wait....there's more!

Next - large white styrofoam coolers.
What could be inside?
Are you ready?
I lift the lid of the cooler to reveal KFC branded tin-foil....covering a mountain of genetically-enhanced chicken wings and legs.
Yes, it's true.

Of course, there were your typical, country-style delicatessens peppering the buffet table (yes, said buffet) - rolls, pork and beans, Jello with fruit in it....

But, the best...THE BEST....was the corn on the cob. Piles and piles of cobs, where the guests were invited to pick up the corn and dunk it in an extra large jar of butter (avec tongs).

After dinner, ACDC kicked off the lawn dance, with their sacred ballad: "She Shook Me All Night Long"....and the last thing I remember was singing "Gold Digger" in my sister's ear as she buckled me up for the ride home.

Long story, short: Although I could never live the life a small town strutter, I certainly appreciate their technique. Hell, they must be doing something right - look at me.

Enjoy this week's column......


Gay Pride 2006 - Toronto



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Struttin' 101

What to Movie: little MISS SUNSHINE (...By far, my favourite movie of the year!)

What to DVD: RUNNING SCARED (...starring, the always delicious, Paul Walker)

What NOT to DVD: Basic Instinct 2 (....I know, it's a given - but I was curious as to HOW awful it actually was)

What to TV: Laguna Beach, Season 3

What to Drink: Blueberry Stoli Vodka with a splash of 7

Where to Patio: Cadillac Lounge (1296 Queen Street West, Toronto) - you can get a bucket of beer for $18!

What's on m(i)Pod: Come To Me - P-Diddy

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For my ladies....

What to bag: 2006 Limited Edition Director's Bag by Jeanne Lottie
Available at the Toronto International Film Festival Box Office (Manulife Centre, 55 Bloor Street West, Toronto), Jeanne Lottie Boutique (106 Yorkville Ave, Toronto) or online at www.jeannelottie.com

What to wear: True Religion - Billy Jean

What NOT to wear: Matching Yellow Polos (Jennifer Love Big-Tits will forever be an asshole)

What to Make-up: CHANEL Black Satin Nail Polish

What to shoe: Venice Boot


Rose, Dorothy, Blanche and Sophia


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CHECK IT OUT...

'Flava of the Week': Frederic Michalak (click here, here, here, here or HERE)

- A useful tool for the ever-so-unstable THIRD DATE

- ALERT!!

Shameless Self-Promotion: Look for 'yours truly' in the Premiere Issue (Canadian) of HELLO! Magazine, LUSH Magazine and the 2006 Toronto International Film Festival Programme Book




- Brad Pitt Sings? Or tries to at least.....

- D&G's Men's Fashion Show - Summer 2007 (...he can visit my teepee ANYTIME!)

Birthday Shout-Outs:

Sarah P. (June 21st), Sydne L. (July 4th), Lee A. (July 16th), Maxine H. (July 17th), Alex M. (July 17th), Jennica (July 21st), Katie B. (July 22nd), Kelly T. (July 26th), Aubray (July 30th), Amy (July 31st), Kelly H. (August 24th), Jenn C. (August 26)

Happy Birthday, Lova!

Jimmy, Amy (B-da girl), Moi, Suzie and Solange




Happy Birthday, Jenn!




Happy Birthday, Kelly!



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WUZ HAPPENIN'.....

* 2006 Toronto International Film Festival - September 7th to 16th
Visit tiffg.ca for more information on this year's films and how to buy your tickets!

* Canadian National Exhibition - AKA "the EX" - Starts this weekend!
Visit www.theex.com for more info!

* ANDY WARHOL Exhibit - SUPERNOVA: Stars, Deaths and Disasters, 1962-1964
August 7th - September 10th
Art Gallery of Ontario - 317 Dundas Street West, Toronto

* Grapefruit - September 8th - Fly Nightclub - $5 before 10:30 pm, $10 after

* Nuit Blanche - September 30th - 7pm until dawn - Toronto

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So good to have you back, Suzie.....



Well, that's it for another week. Keep struttin'!

And always remember, '...no matter how hard you try....you'll never be as good as me!"

Smith
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