*Tour-ette at the Cherry Grove pier after a week of LGBTQ Pride and Supreme Court scandal! 6/27/2022

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*Tour-ette on a rainy Monday evening in Cherry Grove at the end of LGBTQ Pride Month. 6/27/2022

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Sybil Bruncheon's “My Merry Memoirs”… LGBTQ Pride Parades of the Past – 1987…

Here's Mummie walking down the entire route of the parade with her theatre pal Ron Coombs lending her moral support. My ride that year in a vintage convertible Mercedes had stood me up at the last minute right before the parade started (he had a hangover… or a date!), and there I was in my tiara by Larry Vrba and my coronation ball gown by Matthew Lombardi for NYC's first Night Of A Thousand Gowns. I’d been crowned the first Empress of NY by the Imperial Court System of America… Sybil the First - The Atlas Empress!... and the ball had been held in the newly renovated and restored Waldorf Astoria in their grand ballrooms… for the then unheard of sum of $250.00 a ticket! Can you imagine?

This was the old parade route too; starting at Central Park West at 70th Street, winding down to 59th, across to 5th Avenue, then straight all the way down to Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village, across to Christopher Street, past the historic Stonewall Inn and Sheridan Square, and then all the way down to the festival on the Hudson River. Mummy's feet bled for two days… yep! BLED!… and I limped for a week!

“But the show MUST GO ON!”, right? (I WAS the first Empress of NY after all) ... ah, good times!… good times...

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Sybil Bruncheon’s “My Merry Memoirs”… LGBTQ Pride Parades of the Past – 1996…

Here we have the Sybil Bruncheon Repertory Company (including Bob Gutowski & Jay Boehm, Jeffrey Wallach, and Marty Santoro all seen here, along with Jay Rogers, Thomas Stoehr, Douglas Huston, and James Takos) did a tribute to the 200th anniversary of the French revolution and the beheading of Marie Antoinette called "Those Naughty, Naughty Queens!". We built a working tumbril, and the entire company dressed as Revolutionaries and Sans Culottes selling toy-guillotines and headless gingerbread men to the crowds! And guess who got to be the Queen being dragged to the scaffold! Type-casting, I guess you could say!... and here I tried so hard and so often to treat my staff and supporting cast with so much kindness, generosity, and understanding… oh well. (Who would have thought that 25 years later with Washington DC in so much turmoil, our little caprice would be so very pertinent!) Ah, good times!... good times!

(photo by Matthew Kiernan, Sybil’s gown by Gefil Tefish of the Hefty Highness Hideaway)

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Sybil Bruncheon's “My Merry Memoirs”…LGBTQ Pride Parades of the Past - 1986.

Here's the cover of The NY Daily News from Monday, June 30th, 1986. At the time of the LGBTQ Pride Parade in 1986, even as I was headlining at the major clubs in NYC and around the country, I also happened to have been going through some serious misadventures involving a stock broker, the (now defunct!) brokerage house Thompson/McKinnon, a taxi cab accident, back due rent, and a major rent strike at the Ansonia! (talk about material for a memoir!)... and in the middle of all that drama there was the centennial of the Statue of Liberty with all the Tall Ships coming to town along with the President and foreign dignitaries to see it unveiled, newly refurbished and restored and with a brand new 24kt torch flame gleaming over the city. In the Pride Parade just days before the huge celebration on the 4th, I celebrated the centennial in my own way with my own "Liberty" outfit of gold lamé (by Cliff Boone and Morrie Breyer at A.Q.U.A.) and a custom-made torch (that actually lit up!). It was all great fun, and another triumphant parade for the LGBTQ community. But that's not the end of the story...  

The gloriously beautiful Monday morning after the parade, I had to face all the challenges of the rent strike, being broke, dealing with being swindled along with several other gullible guys, bills, deadlines, threats of eviction, blah, blah, blah, etc, etc. I knew I had to eat a good breakfast or I'd be nauseated the rest of the day with cramps, so I headed to the diner by my corner news stand!... and the nice Moroccan man behind the counter suddenly screamed gleefully at me pointing and waving a copy of the Daily News in front of a sidewalk full of staring commuters, "Derr! I tell you! I TELL YOU!! Derr is da lady! Derr is da LADY!!! You, meester! You ARE DA LADEEEE! Ha! HA! HAAA! YOU ARE DA LADEEEE!"...

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Sybil Bruncheon's "My Merry Memoirs"... LGBTQ Pride Parades of the Past - 1984

Pride Month Memories... WHERE WAS I 40 YEARS AGO?:

On every Pride Parade Day, I spend the day thinking about Lou Maletta, the Gay Cable Network on Channel J, and all the adventures we had together there and around the city and with Mark Bailey and all our GCN friends in Cincinnati. Although I first officially met Lou in 1983, and then began collaborating with him on stage and club events, and three different cable TV series that ran from 1984 to 1993, I feel like I'd known him forever. Right after we taped our first show together at the beginning of November in '84, we began spending every week together working on exciting projects, fundraisers, upcoming shoots on location all around NYC, and in various downtown theatres in front of studio audiences, and of course, the Gay Pride Parade!.....this photo was taken outside the Plaza Hotel on our first parade together, and back when the Pride Parade was hours long, winding from Central Park West up at the west 70s, crossing 59th Street to Fifth Avenue, and then all the way down to Greenwich Village and back across Christopher Street past the historic Stonewall Inn to the Hudson River for the festival. As I said... HOURS!

This first parade we did together had so many funny and fascinating moments for us; the balloons began to deflate and pop almost immediately in the heat against the hot metal of the car! Every block of that long parade route stunned and surprised us! We had only been on that early incarnation of cable television (only ten channels and all on a dinky box of pushbuttons labeled "A" through "J" and perched precariously on top of your TV with NO remote!). But as we drove down the parade route, we couldn't believe the throngs of people that screamed out "Sybil" and rushed the car for autographs and photos (and this was LONG before the convenience of cell phones and selfies!). The buzz and the hoopla grew and grew, block by block of course as we moved farther and farther downtown we went.

There's Lou's partner of many years, Luke Valenti driving!!! Luke would have all of us convulsed with laughter whenever I saw him. Lou said that Luke made him laugh more than anyone on Earth, and that it was their secret to their long marriage!! Lou will certainly be in my heart and memory forever. I still find myself chuckling at all the funny times we had, the poignant moments we shared, and the many friends we loved... and lost. Lou's sense of humor was tremendous too, and his lifestyle fooled no one.....If you spent any time with him at all, you would see that he was an incredibly learned and sophisticated man under all the leather and paraphernalia!!!... and he revealed his classiness only when it suited him!!!! He was my producer with whom I clashed and bickered, and laughed and conspired! Lou was always happy for my successes, and gave great advice when I asked for it! We made some fun and funny shows together, some of which still exist in archives here and there, and we chuckled at the thought that we were often portrayed as the Bette Davis and Jack Warner of the Gay Cable world... Many thanks, Lou, for so many gifts!!!... and sweet dreams to you, old friend.

(Photo by Diana Di Prima. Sybil's gown by Cliff Boone and Morrie Breyer of A.Q.U.A., and her jewelry by Jesse Galvez of J. Antonio and Larry Verba)

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Sybil Bruncheon's Holiday Reading Sizzlers!...

Hey, Folks! It's Holiday time, and everyone's asking Santa for some nice new books for the New Year! Are YOU???

...well, Mummie found some reading suggestions for you from a place called Porny Place Publishers, and they're exactly the kind of books that will get you noticed at the next meeting at your book club!... maybe even by that Amway heiress from Omaha... or a European count from a postage-stamp principality!... Yay!!!

Here you go!... "Homosexual Train"… is followed by "Gender Reassigned Tramp Steamer", "I'm Bi On My Tricycle", "Daughters of Lesbos 18-Wheeler", “Tranny Trolley”, “Homo Hobo Highway”, and "Queer Studebaker"... the final books in the series are... "I Became A Eunuch On A Unicycle"... "Wimp Wagon Weenies"… and "Man-Lady On Roller Blades!"…

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A little Christmas tradition... Evening tea in bed... And memories of the Ansonia...

Did I ever tell you how I love keeping little pieces of my world with me along my journey?... things that may not mean much to other folks, but when I've found them (sometimes tossed aside, or even away in the trash!) I keep them and find a use for them in life.

Here's one; it's the bronze wall thermometer from the notorious Continental Baths in the Ansonia Hotel!... yes, THAT Continental Baths where a young, loud, and over-the-top, funny-looking Jewish comedienne with a brassy voice and a zaftig figure sang to Park Avenue socialites and gay boys in bath towels. Her name of course, was Bette Midler and her goofy little pianist was Barry Manilow... both of them destined in a very short time to become icons of the 1970s, and beyond. Well, as we all know, NYC has almost no sentimentality for anyone or anything... not even for itself. And, as times (and tastes!) changed, the city could devour parts of itself one night and awaken the next morning with something shiny and new. The Continental Baths was one of those "things"... it ran its course (even in its later incarnation as "Plato's Retreat"; a forlorn, short-lived, and shabby hand-me-down for heterosexual hipsters of the 1980s and finally was sentenced to the wrecking ball and dumpsters of Giuliani's "gentrification" schemes.

One night, as I roamed the dimly lit labyrinth of the Ansonia's sub-basements, I came across rooms full of the Continental/Plato's wreckage. All that was recognizable of the place was the Olympic-sized swimming pool with its three terra-cotta lion face water spouts, its brass railings and stair bannisters, and the brass stencil-sheet for "5 FT" still splashed with red enamel where the attendants had painted the water depth along the walls of the pool... it was lying on a pile of smashed marble; the dividing partitions of the maze of the infamous steam rooms where New York's, and indeed America's gay men had gone for magic, mystery, and other men!

As I dug through the rubble looking for some piece of terrazzo or tile, mosaic, or memorabilia, I stumbled over this, half-buried in crushed plaster and yet, miraculously undamaged. I had to wipe the front clean of dirt to realize that it wasn't an automobile wheel housing; it was the face of a thermometer, weighing almost 40 pounds. And when I scratched the underside with a discarded nail from the floor, the familiar rosy glow of solid bronze showed itself in the dimness of the work lights strung on the overhead beams.

I lugged it back up to my apartment, and I mean LUGGED it... 40 POUNDS, at least! I scrubbed it in my double-sized cast-iron bathtub; the type that grand old hotels like the Ansonia were known for. And as I polished it, the slivery-green of the verdi-gris began to wash away, and that gleaming, warm, coppery-gold came into view. It was far too heavy to mount on the wall of my splendid bathroom although I thought it would be wickedly witty there, but by the next morning, looking at it sitting on the sofa, I knew instantly what it would be perfect for. I thought of all those breakfasts-in-bed that great ladies of film liked to have in the classic movies, and I remembered how often I myself had turned around in bed to grab a phone call and scattered my plate all over the floor! Not anymore! With this glorious bronze steam-punk objet weighing down the covers, nary a drop of my morning cappu would ever be spilt.

And that's how it's lived in all my homes, even after my long adventure in the Ansonia... a turn-of-the-century thermometer, originally installed in 1904 on the wall of the elegant gentleman's spa of a great metropolitan hotel, before the San Francisco earthquake, the Titanic, World Wars, the Roaring 20s, the Stock Market Crash, the Depression, World Wars, assassinations, moon landings, booms and busts, and blow-jobs... oh yes, and Bette & Barry!

That's how it is for me. Things; things you can hold in your hand, and behold in your eye; things that most folks walk by and don't even notice... Things hold a meaning for me, a depth and expanse that is... spiritual... oh, beyond spiritual. And when I "save" them, when I keep them from being disposed of, discarded, or destroyed, they become... what?... my children?... Certainly they become a part of me. Truly a part of me... whatever…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "My Merry Memoirs... Bastille Day!"...

July 14th… BASTILLE DAY... I'm remembering (very fondly!) the Bastille Days I was honored to have hosted down in the "Meatpacking District" in Greenwich Village when Florent Morellet owned the iconic Restaurant Florent, an all night diner that attracted drag queens, movie stars, rock icons, artists, politicians, and millionaires. The place hopped, literally, 24 hours a day, and frankly was more animated in the middle of the night than it was during the somewhat sleepy midday lunchtimes with local businessmen… and maybe Keith Haring and a gaggle of his pals at table 11.

Florent asked me to host the "Marie Antoinette Contest" which came at the end of the 12 hour-long shows that featured brilliant downtown talent like Joey Arias, Raven O, Basil Twist, Ethel Eichelberger, and an endless array of ventriloquists, apache-dancers, accordionists, mimes, jugglers, knife-throwers, fire-eaters, mesmerists, fortune tellers, palm readers, phrenologists, daredevils, contortionists, and can-can girls.

And the next year, Florent had me emcee the entire day... a 13 hour marathon that will always remain one of my very favorite memories of my entire career. Thousands of people moved through that section of the Village as the show unfolded and the food and drink flowed at the tables both inside the restaurant and out in the open-air sidewalk cafe that was set up on the blocked off all of Gansevoort Street from Greenwich Street to Washington Street. (The steak au poivre et frites was the very best and my favorite!)

The entire staff of the restaurant was costumed accordingly and the cobblestone pavement was so perfectly evocative too with straw scattered everywhere and a guillotine set up for photo-ops! The place was a success from the day it opened in 1985 (long before the High Line was even imagined!) till it finally closed in 2008 when the Village truly became the yuppie, corporate-driven hangout of the junk-bonders, dot-com-ers, heiresses from Omaha, Carrie-Bradshaw-wanna-bes, and the rest of the 3 card monte, banking and Wall Street scam-herd. All the magic, eccentricity, creativity, and uniqueness has been replaced by Babbity, Gloria Upson pretentiousness that smells of brewskies, frat-boy aftershave, and the backseats of BMWs that have been wiped with Clorox Clean-ups... oh well. Thank you, Florent, and the entire staff of Restaurant Florent for the great food, friendship, laughter, and memories of a much more frisky, fantastical, and fabulous time!

(Sybil's gown by the Gefil Tefish Hefty Highness Hideaway)

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Sybil Bruncheon's Summer Reading Sizzlers!...

Hey, Folks! It's July, and everyone's barbers, therapists, and acupuncturists are at the beach! Are YOU??? ...well, Mummie found some reading suggestions for you from a place called Porny Place Publishers, and they're exactly the kind of books that will get you noticed at the next meeting at your book club!... maybe even by that Amway heiress from Omaha... or a European count from a postage-stamp principality!... Yay!!!

Here you go!... "Homosexual Train"… is followed by "Gender Reassigned Tramp Steamer", "I'm Bi On My Tricycle", "Daughters of Lesbos 18-Wheeler", “Tranny Trolley”, “Homo Hobo Highway”, and "Queer Studebaker"... the final books in the series are... "I Became A Eunuch On A Unicycle"... "Wimp Wagon Weenies"… and "Man-Lady On Roller Blades!"…

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