The Rose Ball
St George Day is also known as The Feast of St Georges. And according to legend, St George slaid a dragon who apparently liked to feast on virgins. So when I got the invitation to attend the St George’s Society annual Red Rose Ball black tie $500-a- plate fundraising dinner in support of Casey House at the Fairmont Royal York Hotel in honour of actor and writer Rick Mercer, you can imagine my greedy excitement. You can also imagine my confusion when nary a virgin am I presented (that I know of.) I even brought my own virgin-eating bid and everything. Former politician Bob Rae and his wife Arlene Perly Rae don’t seem to mind however as they beeline it to the cocktail shrimp table before the sumptuous sit down dinner. Mingling in his historic hall amongst the fresh canapés is an interesting mix of prim and proper straight politicos and allies plus well-to- do gays in business suits (many of whom I’ve seen in much less clothing just last weekend at some politically incorrect club). As men in period English costumes pose with guests including designer Tommy Smythe, artist Charles Pachter, former Newfoundland Premier Brian Tobin and singer Sean Jones as a graffiti artist paints an intricate rose themed mural in less time an it takes for me to tinkle. Strutting in fashionably just in the nick of time, the dashing Mathieu Chantelois and his partner Marcelo Gomez proceed straight into the dining room where the national anthem is played, dinner is served and speeches are made. Everyone loves Mercer and he is presented with the award of merit for his contributions to the community. Imagine if they gave him a virgin?
Sci-Fi is also known as science fiction. And according to the Futurama science fiction exhibit/ride of New York’s 1939 World’s Fair we should all be living underwater or on in moon colony by now. So you can imagine my excitement when Pitbull party host Frances Gaudrealt invites me to his Sci-Fi event at Fly nightclub recently. You can also imagine my confusion when instead of a moon colony occupying the second floor dark room I’m instead presented with the hairy moon cheeks of Fay Slift’s Chewbacca he-man back-up dancers as they gyrate and twerk their g-string clad buns while she performs dressed as the most amazing Princess Leia ever complete with huge styrophome ear bun curls. Frances meanwhile is making his rounds covered in thick metallic silver body paint for his futuristic blow–out. And what a blowout it is. Fly is packed and a huge line-up of soon to be enlisted storm troopers are outside waiting to invade the dance floor with their blasters. I’m ready to do battle with my light sabre. Now when was the last time Fly had a line-up? It seems like we are in a gay galaxy far-far way. But no, we’re here in the present, and the men, none of whom are of course dressed in theme (except maybe two), are ready to feel the force of DJs Chez and Aural. It seems guys don’t dress-up for theme parties anymore. Perhaps it’s not considered manly or maybe they all just want to look like one another. Whatever the case, the future is bright for the Pitbull Empire, as Darth Frances seems intent on bringing every single gay city across North America under his control. Now imagine if he made moon colonies in every single dark room?