White House Blues
By Steven Fales | March 27, 2011
I understand that the White House charges people to for the exotic (and thrilling) experience of sleeping there. You can rent a room. Possibly spend time with the president and the family. I don’t think they have a mortgage to pay. But where does the money go? To their political party? Who makes the money? Does it go to charity.
There are people who charge money to their fans to spend the night in their home where there is a mortgage to pay. Or they go on a cruise with their celebrity. Okay, fine. We all have to make a buck some how.
But it seems to be a form of priest craft. Making money off god or the government or the gays . . . it all seems suspicious to me. Unless the money is going to charity.
If Joseph Smith’s mother, in her twilight years, could make money by charging people to see the “mummies” he used to help make up the book “The Pearl of Great Price”, then I guess anything goes.
Auctioning off your dresses for charity is one thing. Or charging to tour your Newport Mansion and giving the proceeds to a charity is one more “one thing”. But having a temporary “bed and breakfast” for the weekend, then keeping all the money to pretend to be their friend so you can keep your house and giving your listening ear and offering unsound advice . . . It just makes me wonder. Don’t you need a license to be a therapist? Or run a B&B? Where does the money go? There is nothing wrong with having boarders. And I guess one could have a “retreat” in one’s home and gardens.
It all gives me the priestcraft blues. This will definitely come up again.
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Advance Praise for THE MORMON BOY TRILOGY
By Steven Fales | March 24, 2011
Anthony del Valle was at the benefit staged reading of WHO’S YOUR DADDY? the other night in Las Vegas. Here’s what the chief theatre critic of the Las Vegas Review-Journal said.
“I’m not Mormon. I have no kids. I’ve never been married, let alone divorced. But I feel, for some unexplainable reason, that this triology is my story. The writing has the kind of specificity that makes Steven Fales’ plays universal. You feel certain that the author lived the events in these scripts. For all its poignancy, though, the writing is funny. Fales knows how to make the second half of a line different from what we expect from the first. He knows how to surprise.”
“Who’s Your Daddy? completes the spiritual journey of a disenchanted Mormon, a hustler, a drug-addict, a frustrated ex-husband and father to a human who finally comes to peace with himself and the crazy world around him.”
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Reading Afterglow
By Steven Fales | March 23, 2011
The reading was of WHO’S YOUR DADDY? went extremely well. Thanks to the gang at Golden Rainbow for all their support. I was so pleased to have so many women in the audience. The girls at Rainbow were especially helpful with their feedback. I was very relieved that so many were genuinely moved by the piece.
Thanks to Dr. Jensen (my high school Nevada All-State Choir director!) for coming with her ex-Mormon husband, Mr. Hale (my Spanish teacher in high school and family friend), Elder Nielsen for all his support every time (I didn’t realize you were PRESIDENT of Golden Rainbow!). There were so many “fans” and acquaintances. Special surprise was my friend Ruben who flew in special. The play has come a long way since the THREE-hour reading he saw when I held him hostage on that couch in the lobby of his hotel in New York. Wait that didn’t come out right!
The play came in at two-and-a-half hours with intermission. Time to get it to two hours with intermission. It is clear to me that the play’s themes require that the story be told and that to worry about “time” will diminish the quality of the experience.
So the MORMON BOY TRILOGY will be two 90-minute plays and one that is two-hours.
Oh! Anthony del Valle helped so much with the reading. He added such “gravitas” to the experience. Chief critic of the LVRJ! Thanks so much for all your support, Tony! You are the best.
One last note for the record. I’m getting super “smart” laughter from my audiences while doing readings for groups of true theatre folks and fellow playwrights in New York. And I’m getting tears (and laughter) from my West-coast folks. Last night’s standing ovation seemed very genuine. It reminds me of the early readings for Confessions. We’ll see where all this goes. You can never judge your work by standing ovations. They come and they go . . . They are very lovely. But we don’t do this work for reviews or for standing O’s.
I’ve been committed to a life in the arts since I was 16. I feel it may just now be starting to make sense and to pay off. Let’s get the MORMON BOY phase of my career done. It’s been a mission. The future will be much more diverse than autobiographical. But it was an important stepping stone in my development. And maybe history? Uh-oh. Getting grandiose . . .
Just a few more re-writes. I’ll work on the script on the plane today on my way to Utah to see the kids.
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Thanks, Nancy!
By Steven Fales | March 22, 2011
My dear friend Nancy in Salt Lake City prevented my storage unit from being auctioned off today! Whew! My whole career and life was in that 5×5 unit. Now to get the phone back on. I’m selling my Western Prada belt buckle today. I paid $300 for it in 2006. I bought it as an opening night gift for myself when I did CONFESSIONS OF A MORMON BOY Off-Broadway. It’s what I wore in the publicity photos for MORMON AMERICAN PRINCESS. We’ll see who might buy it tonight after the reading. I’ve gotten tons of mileage out of this belt. I can let it go. I also have a Cartier belt with a great story to sell.
Good news! My producer in London has negotiated a good deal with the theatre in Edinburgh. We are closer to Ed Fringe every day!
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WHO’S YOUR DADDY? Las Vegas Reading
By Steven Fales | March 22, 2011
Tonight I do a reading of WHO’S YOUR DADDY? in Las Vegas to benefit Golden Rainbow. 7:00pm at the LGBT Center in Commercial Center on E. Sahara Blvd. (Otherwise known as Bath House Row! Imagine! Three in one strip mall. Only in Vegas! And Palm Springs! This is next door to The Rack/Onyx Theatre where I was gonna be performing this month until our unfortunate falling out. It’s where you buy your gear before you enter the bath house.) There will be a Q&A afterwards facilitated by Anthony del Valle, chief theatre critic of the Las Vegas Review-Journal.
Golden Rainbow is the Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS of Nevada. It is a very important resource for those living with HIV/AIDS. I’m honored they are letting me tell my story. And I’m grateful to the Center for hosting us. And special thanks to Elder Nielson for taking this idea and executing it so well. Everything he does turns to gold and is touched with class.
Tonight I come out as HIV positive in WHO’S YOUR DADDY? It’s a sub-plot. But it’s one of the themes of interest in my sequel to CONFESSIONS OF A MORMON BOY.
WHO’S YOUR DADDY? A prodigal father returns to Salt Lake City to help raise his kids only to find himself fighting for his life in the Utah Courts. To finally be free of his demons, this Greco-Mormon must face his greatest nemesis—a man he has never met and who has been dead for decades. Laced with humor, sex and crystal meth, bi-polar ghosts and mortals collide in this compelling family drama that completes The Mormon Boy Trilogy. “Daddy isn’t finished yet.” A world premiere.
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Hillary and Mitt
By Steven Fales | March 22, 2011
Now doesn’t that sound like a good combination for 2012?
I have always been a Hillary fan. Now more than ever. I reluctantly voted for Obama. We all did. But Hillary has proven herself to be one of the best leaders America has ever had. I am continually inspired by her. (I’m also inspired by the comebacks of Brittany Spears, but that’s just because I’m an underdog parent with manic tendencies, too!) Hillary recently said she will not run for president or stay in as Secretary of State. I hope this isn’t true and that she’s bluffing. We need to show that “The Penetrated” can be great leaders. One of the best messages for gay liberation is to show that “The Penetrated” are as effective in the world as the good-old-boys club led by “The Penetrators.” (This goes back to 3,000 or even 5,000 years of homophobia.) Hillary for president. She’s a strong leader who is the best thing for human rights in the United States and Abroad. She may be ambitious, but she is human. And she is a seasoned warrior. We need her.
And as her running mate, we need Mitt Romney for Vice President. Who can resist this Mormon. He may not be human, but he’s RICH. And we need America to be rich again. And who can resist those five beautiful sons and their little families. We need these Mormon family values to shine. I just hope one of those A&F sons doesn’t turn up on Manhunt. That would be tragic.
Hillary for Humanity and Leadership. Mitt for financial responsibility and American prosperity. Or let’s have Mitt in 2012 and Hillary for 2016.
I’m so glad to be an artist these days. I don’t have to be Republican or Democrat. I don’t have to be conservative or liberal. I just get to be me. Anyone else feel caught between Ayn Rand and Joseph Smith? Wait. That’s not the best analogy. Unless you see Ayn Rand as Mitt Romney and Joseph Smith as a Democrat. Maybe it should be Ayn Rand and Jesus. I don’t know. Off to memorize lines and record a sound cue.
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I Am an Ex-Mormon
By Steven Fales | March 22, 2011
Imitation is the best form of flattery. It also re-inforces the opposition’s point of view. It shines light to the source. It is an adolescent form of revolution. It’s clever. But it doesn’t have true power and authenticity. It’s something I should look at myself. The more original I can be, the more credibility I have.
A friend of mine from Young Ambassadors tipped me off to my ex-wife’s public service announcement on YouTube. She looks great. Good job, Em! She shot a commercial for a series called “I Am an Ex-Mormon.” It is a take-off on the very brilliant, professional, and actually moving propaganda commercials the Mormon Church are now doing to clean up their image.
Let me tell you, this campaign the Mormon Church is doing is so slick and well-done, you just can’t believe it. Even I get sucked back in. I want to be friends with these accomplished people living extraordinary, value-based lives. These people really do look genuinely happy. You can’t fake that. There is no bravado. No getting back at anyone layered underneath. No agenda other than to please their prophet of their cult steeped in institutionalized bigotry. Heck, I wish my kids were going to Church to learn some of those values. Wait, is using the word cult the same as using the word “evil”?
Take a look at the YouTube videos of “I Am a Mormon” and “I Am an Ex-Mormon.” See what you think? Is the parody campaign effective? Or should we stick to the original?
I’d post some examples. But I’m don’t want to give either one too much power. They are both silly. And who gives their story away for free anymore?! Ts-Ts-Ts!
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Evil? Really?
By Steven Fales | March 22, 2011
“Today I see the Mormon Church as one of the most evil organizations on earth.” –Bruce Bastian, “Mormon From My Eyes”, Gay.com
About a year or so ago my literary agent tipped me off to a project where gay Mormons were sharing their stories in mini essays on Gay.com. As I scrolled through the many essays on the questionable site (Hadn’t I hooked up once using Gay.com?), I came across Bruce Bastian’s story. That was a big catch for Gay.com. If you don’t know who that is, you definitely should. He is LGBT Utah’s and HRC’s biggest Sugar Daddy.
I could totally relate to so much of his story. But then I came across a word in his essay that made my heart sink. He called the Mormon Church “One of the most EVIL organizations on earth.” No pass.
Now I have certainly felt rage against the Mormon machine. But in all my writing I have never used the word “evil” to describe it. Not even the word “hate.” When I think of evil I think of many images of what the Church taught me was evil. But to use the word against the Church? Are they really Ghadafi? Or the sex industry? (Love the sex worker; hate the sex work. Love the drug addict; hate the drug.)
Here’s the thing, folks. Bruce Bastian is a nice guy. He’s very generous. But our leaders cannot use the words “evil” or “hate” anymore. It is the worst thing we can do. You may feel it. You may think it. But if you say it, you will create more war. Unless Bruce thinks he has more money than the Mormon Church, he needs to play nice. “What Would Carol Lynn Do?” She taught even me to be more poetically diplomatic than to use the word “evil”. I EXPECT MUCH MORE OF OUR LEADERS. Or is using the word “hate” and “evil” a way to scare LGBT folks into donating more to HRC?
We cannot throw money at our cause. We need leaders who are intelligent and articulate and generous and wise. Not just rich. I’ve been to the Lady Ga-Ga Rallies he’s funded. “Full of sound and fury signifying nothing.” We need leaders who challenge ideas that cause fear, not institutions and people. Furthermore, it is in the strength of our character and our relationships that will do more to help further the cause of equality than all the rallies that don’t go anywhere and only alienate our “enemies.”
Even though Bruce never did invest in or see my work, I know first hand of his generosity. He gave my ex-wife and I a big fat ex-Mormon check for our very Mormon wedding that financed our Honeymoon to Disneyland. I will never forget his kindness. And I wonder if GLAAD knows that he’s throwing around the word evil? Then again, “Who’s Their Daddy?”
Evil is one “D” away from “Devil”. Be careful how you use it, fellow Mormon Boys.
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Tokyo Disney Sea
By Steven Fales | March 21, 2011
When I first got divorced I auditioned for Disney’s themeparks. Like almost all triple-threats at BYU’s musical theatre department and former Young Ambassadors, I had always wanted to work at Disneyland or Disneyworld. It was the stepping-stone to being in Les Miz. (Okay, I’m a singer’s dancer not a dancer’s dancer. Can I still think I was a triple threat? I can still do a triple time step!)
So I auditioned for Tokyo Disney Sea. It was a new themepark in Japan. And I was offered a role in their new Broadway-style show. I love sushi! But this gig would have been for nine months. And I would not be able to save very much money working there. And it would take me away from my very young children. Jetblue doesn’t fly to Tokyo.
So I turned the offer down. I sacrificed Disney for my kids. Instead, I just took them to Disney musicals throughout the next year on Broadway. And jetBlue brought me home almost monthly in-between Manhattan visits. Stateside was a much better alternative.
I cannot end this post without acknowledging my true sadness for Japan’s recent disaster. May they bounce back with pioneer exuberance and alacrity so we can all get back to singing and dancing as soon as possible.
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Post-Traumatic Utah
By Steven Fales | March 21, 2011
Utah is not a safe place for me. It was where I endured a Church Court where I was excommunicated for the crime of homosexuality. That experience spiritually raped me. It’s also where I spent all of 2008 in the Utah Courts fighting for my rights as a non-custodial parent when I was falsely accused of “child abuse” by my ex-wife (financed by her supporters). That experience just about wiped me out financially and physically. I was newly HIV positive and really didn’t need the stress of false allegations when I had moved back to Utah to be a full-time dad for the sake of the kids. Utah has some good scattered memories: I loved performing as a Young Ambassador at BYU, at Sundance, at Pioneer Theatre, my wedding in the Salt Lake Temple was a beautiful experience, and I have sacred memories of being with my children. But aside from glimpses of hope and fleeting moments of happiness, and it being a significant place of my Mormon family heritage, it has only brought me pain and it is a place where I am misunderstood and my heart misrepresented. I am of Las Vegas and New York and Boston and Connecticut. I don’t belong in Utah. I don’t blend in the land of blonde and blue-eyed people. And even as a gay man, the new liberal Utah intelligencia over-run by HRC doesn’t appreciate my work and has made me more conservative in my views. (I go to church. I have children. I don’t blame Mormons or the Right for everything. I’m not a victim.) I’m too generous to Mormondom, ironically. And I don’t believe you can just get back at the Mormons by drinking and throwing around the word “hate”.
I go to Utah to see my kids. That is the only reason. I don’t try to live there anymore, because I don’t get to see them even when I try to live there. I see them more now living out-of-state. I see them once a month on average in therapy. Last week I was there to see my daughter in her musical. An extra opportunity.
I was NOT in Utah last week to see Carol Lynn Pearson, my former mother-in-law. Though I was once a loyal fan and follower of the prophetess, to me she is now an icon representing the best of the pain of Utah. I see her as all too human, not as the Dali Lama or Deepak Chopra.
It was intermission at my daughter’s middle school musical. Emily and all her people were there. Including her mother. I was sitting off to the side with my sister. I have learned not to engage. I was there to see my daughter. And my son. Not their mother’s gang or their mother’s mother. But then just as intermission was about to end and all was well with the world, Carol Lynn came down to do her Dali Lama thing. She came down (like at a quick commercial break for the Golden Globes) and she took my limp hand and with grandiose pity said something like, “Life is so short and strange. I just want you to know that I bless you and wish you only the best.”
How nice, right? Wrong.
It felt calculated and contrived and completely insincere. It wasn’t meant to be an honest, two-way exchange. It had a one-sided agenda to make her feel better. It wasn’t to say, “Gosh, I’m sorry for all the pain I may have caused.” Or “How are you doing, Steven? How are your T-cells?” Or “What are you working on now?” Or “Thanks for commissioning the oil portrait of me you finished paying for last year.” Or “Thanks for these talented grandchildren we get to watch up here tonight and in the past and in the future.” Or “Let’s have a meaningful chat sometime about love and life and art like we used to.” There was a finality to the whole tone. Like, here we are. But let’s not do this again. It wasn’t a compliment, a thank you, and apology, or an invitation for future dialogue. She was giving me her matriarchal blessing so if either of us died, we at least had a moment. And she could feel piece instead of resentment toward her “former” son-in-law, who wasn’t really invited to the show. (Which I wasn’t.)
Hogwash.
No, once again, this hollow gesture with no meaning or feeling was about looking good and “Look at me.” And you wonder where I get my narcissism? It’s inherited. You get it from your in-laws, dead or alive. I watched my father condescend to his patients. I watched my mother-in-law talk down to her fans. And I’ve shook hands with enough true royalty to not be wowed by very much. We all have tickets and books to sell in the end.
With no real time to respond before her re-inforcement came to her aid, her big brother Don, who I like. (Why didn’t Emily accompany her?) I said to bestselling Ms. Pearson, “Thank you, Carol Lynn. But it’s not about me. What do you think of the beautiful, talented young lady up there on the stage?”
Her circuits had to re-wire and reboot until she realized what I was saying. It was an egregious over-sight. I was the brown-eyed daughter’s brown-eyed father. Not just a sperm donor. I had an M.F.A. in acting myself, I could appreciate the budding talent up there. It was clear to me that she, with the M.A. in theatre, had no intention of having even the tiniest conversation with me acknowledging the connection between a father (who happens to be a man of the theatre long before he met the Pearsons) and his daughter. Hers is a world of only talented “Redgrave” females and their adoring gay followers. Not men. And not fathers.
It’s not about you, Carol Lynn. Or me. And I hope her vigilant watchdogs read this post and relay the message. I don’t need her blessings or her prayers. Because I know that no good deed goes unpublicized in her publishing house. And any prayer that is offered and is then bragged about does not ascend. If I need a blessing, I will go to the Dali Lama myself.
As a father and a man, it’s time to learn boundaries. At least off-stage. And it’s about the kids. Even when this blog appears to be about me. I hope my children learn to stand up for themselves. They can practice on me, if they like (and they do), but ultimately it will serve them well. A lack of boundaries in this world has cost me so much. And at 41, it’s time to start.
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