“IF TINA BROWN were alive today we wouldn’t be able to escape talk of transgender buzz. The eighties were the gay decade. The nineties belonged to lesbian chic. Now it’s a transgendered world. We have seen the rise of the transgender movie—”The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” (1994), “To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar” (1995), “Flawless” (1999), “Boys Don’t Cry” (1999), and “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” (2001)—and, more recently, the appearance of transgender TV characters on “Friends” and “The Education of Max Bickford,” and even the transgender mini-celebrities Boy George, RuPaul, and Ben Schatz (former advisor to President Clinton, cum drag-apella sensation :

The piece, written by Jonathon V. of the Weekly standard, was not entirely sympathetic to transgendered people, although he graciously did acknowledge our right to live. I remember a column about transgendered people, written by George Will, a widely syndicated columnist, which did not even go that far. I do, however, think that Jonathon is correct in his observation that this decade will belong to the transgendered, which is one of the last remaining marginalized groups left. When I think back about it, the nineties opened the door just a little and with enough pushing, the people who justify their beliefs by condemning others will be sent to the closet where they belong.

Incidents like Dr. Barger’s dismissal from the UT. Tyler, which ten years ago would have not even made the reporter’s notebook much less the Dallas Morning News, are now front page stuff.

The time to further our cause is here and I hope all of you support efforts like the Dallas transgender alliance in the fight to gain our rights to “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness”

I dreamed I was walking in my sleep

A funny (in retrospect) thing happened to me on a recent trip to Atlanta I flew over there for a weekend to meet my brother and sister about a family matter. In any case, left DFW after work and used an upgrade to first class. In addition to better seats and better food (if you can call that stuff they serve in the barf bag, food), they graciously offer you wine and other spirits to help the food go down. Because I was planning on riding the MARTA train to North Atlanta and meet my brother, I took advantage of the offer.

After meeting my brother and going to a bar to talk , we both went to bed and here starts the real story.

At 3:00 A.M. or so, I found myself standing in front of the elevator in a very feminine chemise wondering why I was there. I could not remember. After waking up a little I said oh no and went back to the room, thankful that I could remember the room number. The door, of course had closed and locked behind me so I started knocking

After a while I came to the realization that the sole occupant of the room was the same individual that was standing out front in a nightie making a racket! With this realization I really did wake up! It is amazing what adrenalin does for alertness.

My first thought was too hide in the housekeeping closet but the cold realization crept in that not only would I be discovered eventually, but also it would be a long time before I was discovered. In addition, even if that was a good plan, I did not have a key to the linen closet either.

The only way back into my room was to swallow my pride and go down to the lobby to ask for a key. This was a low budget hotel and I was not sure if there even was a night clerk. Actually I vacillated between hoping there was a night clerk and being fearful there would be one. Even worse, I would run into a lost family of eight kids checking in! The only consolation, if there was any, was the night clerk would probably not ask for identification

I did make it down to the lobby, pulling down the chemise to my waist, below the counter, so hopefully the night clerk would not notice. Obviously I was still delusional. When I rang the bell she came out from behind and, for which I was grateful, kept a straight face as she asked me how she could be of help. By this time I was attuned to every nuance of course and as I told her the story, I saw a smile cross her face. She asked me the room number, made a new key and wished me good night. I was right, she did not ask me for identification. No burglar could have possibly made up this story.

Joanie