This past Friday, the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I waited for hours in the cold along with an astoundingly international crowd to see Lucy Lawless perform at the Roxy in West Hollywood. Then, on Saturday, we rolled out of bed and did it again--this time in the pouring rain.

With a sturdy umbrella to shield us, the Girlfriend and I enjoyed the lively company of our fellow Xena fans as we waited to be let in to the club. I can't remember precisely the last time I had to wait for hours outside in torrential rain--I think it may have been a muddy Lilith Fair in Scranton, PA--but I'm sure this was the most fun I've ever had doing so.

In the weeks leading up to the concert Lucy had stated she would be performing country music and called for people to show up in country and western clothing. Cat Crimmins, the evening's MC, gamely arrived on stage looking like she had raided Jack Palance's wardrobe. In the year since she appeared as Lucy's MC at the 2007 Roxy show, Cat has launched a standup career and has appeared at various venues around Los Angeles.

For this event, Cat drew on her history as a fan to serve up some Xena- and BSG-based humor, which was warmly received by the crowd. The Internet has revealed the deep and passionate feelings people have for series TV, so it seems entirely natural to me that comics and other performers should be born out of TV fandom. Of course, Cat does non-TV-based humor as well. In any case, based on what I heard the gals in line saying about Cat "Easy on the Eyes" Crimmins, I'd say she's a rising star in the Xenaverse.

Tig Nataro came back to do her standup routine and, as I've said before, she's fearless and effing brilliant. Tig also adhered to a country costume, wearing a chambray shirt with embroidered flowers across the yoke one night and an Ellie May Clampett styled check shirt the next. As usual, Tig was amazingly deft at improvising with the audience and had us gasping for breath between laughs.

Finally, Lucy took the stage, opening with "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" which transitioned into "Heartache Tonight." The country theme was evident in Lucy's outfit, which included low-waisted, poured-on dungarees, a white short-sleeved shirt, a wide belt with a buckle representing a Maori carving, patent leather heels and 70s retro jewelry. On the next night, the shirt changed to brown and the jeans became silver-spangled chaps. The living, breathing, ever-morphing entity known as Lucy's hair was coiffed in a hairstyle I call "early dinette."

Most of Lucy's song choices throughout the evening were in an "Americana" vein and were meant to reflect the cycle of feelings one experiences in love, from agony to disillusionment to joy. These included well-known hit songs like "A Love Song," "Winner at a Losing Game," "Fooled Around and Fell in Love" and "Kiss You All Over."

There were two women in Lucy's band this time around, a violinist and a bassist. Overall, the music was much mellower than in the past, creating an intimate mood. Although Lucy's energy onstage was lessened, she was able to offer more direct eye contact with the audience than at previous concerts. This also enabled her to infuse certain songs with a more dramatic or narrative element.

The best example of this in my opinion was Lucy's haunting rendition of "Superstar." When I read, in advance of the concert, that Lucy was going to be performing this song, I wondered if her version would veer closer to the Carpenters' tune or to Sonic Youth's inspired cover. I also wondered how she was going to make it through the lyric "What to say / to make you come again" without dissolving in laughter.

As it turns out, laughing was not an issue. Lucy's skills as an actor and singer turned the song into a devastating tearjerker. I was embarrassed to find my mouth twitching as I repeated over and over in my head, "You are NOT going to cry at a Carpenter's song. You are NOT." Then I realized about three or four people around me were crying. I mean outright bawling. It was terrifying in a way. I'm going to assume Michael Orland was responsible for the song's arrangement; dude: Respect.

Lucy also excelled on Tuck & Patti's song, Wide Awake, which she performed as part of her encore. She performed an original song called "New and Beautiful" and a song she recorded as part of a forthcoming soundtrack, called "Beautiful Mistake." Rounding out the evening were "Walkin' After Midnight," "Sweetheart" and "Wonderful."

Two interludes broke up the music and provided an opportunity for fan participation. The first was a Lucy trivia game called "Friends versus Fans: Who Loves Me More?" that pitted Lucy's best friend, Marissa Jaret Winokur, against a fan chosen from the audience. Marissa also wore a countryish outfit, half Oklahoma! cast member and half Marianne from Gilligan's Island.

I imagine that if I were a celebrity, this would be a fun entertainment to stage. As a fan, I felt a bit sorry for Marissa, as she was obviously about to be trounced. I mean, Marissa's a busy celebrity herself, and probably has her own flock of fans she needs to herd and tend and feed and so on. But if you're just an ordinary schmoe like myself, what else do I really have to do all day but obsess over details of Lucy's past and present?

I was certain this was going to be no contest, and that's exactly what it was. I'm proud to say it was my own Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend who contributed the correct "lifeline" answer of Yentl to the question, "What does Lucy think is the greatest movie ever made?"

The second interlude was a joke advice/Q&A session between Lucy and Renee O'Connor, using questions supposedly submitted by the fans. The first night was "Dear Gabby" and the second night was "Ask Xena," with Lucy and Renee taking turns as the one asking or answering.

The verbal exchange between Lucy and Renee followed one of the highlights of the evening, Renee's appearance on stage to sing "Stop Draggin' My Heart Around" with Lucy. Renee's voice was clear and sweet--or at least what could be heard of it over the screaming of the fans.

On Saturday night Renee sashayed across the stage in a witchy Stevie Nicks-type outfit, which included heeled lace-up high boots and a fringed purple dress. The effect it had was kind of like when you see a long tunnel and at the end there's this white light and you look around and you go, "Oh, I must be in heaven now," and then you go back into your body and you realize that you didn't die, you were just smushed against the stage awful tight there for a moment and look, there's Renee again.

Renee has this gentle groove thing she does with her shoulders onstage, gyrating them forward and down that makes you think, sweet baby Jesus, this woman is trying to ruin me. It's just a lot for any lesbian to bear. And it's only going to get worse, now that we know, via Katherine Fugate, that Renee will be appearing on Army Wives in the future, apparently in a lesbian role.

One woman in the audience lost restraint and threw her panties on stage at Lucy. When Renee came on stage Friday night, she casually picked up the fan's panties and stuffed them down the back of her black leather pants. I leave you with that image, below.

Special thanks to Sharon Delaney of Creation Entertainment for her assistance in fleshing out Lucy's song list.

To those of you who've been checking this site regularly the past few days wondering if I'm going to be posting about the Burbank 2008 Xena Convention or the 2008 Lucy Lawless at the Roxy concert, the answer is yes, I will. However, I'm feeling less than stellar this week (for reasons I won't bother you with here), and as a result, I won't be doing the battery of pre-event posts that I've done in the past. You can expect my usual concert report with photos later this weekend.

In the meantime, here are some good Xena-related links to kill time with:

• My fellow AfterEllen.com scribe Christie Keith is live-blogging the convention. So that her site doesn't get creamed by the Xenite hordes, Christie's posting her updates at AfterEllen.com instead of her personal blog. But I notice she's posted a few Xena tidbits over at her personal site, Dogged Blog, as well. Hope you upgraded your server, Christie.


• There's some great pictures from the totally righteous Xena Fan Support Day on the WGA picket line at MaryD's site, Twink's site and LAist.com.


• Because it had to happen sometime: LOLxena. I found this site via XenaCast. You can see I've made my own LOLrenee picture for this post. If you're a fan of the LOL phenomena, the LOLxena site also has a lengthy blogroll of LOL sites. I especially enjoyed the blog on LOLchaucer, which also featured lengthy posts on topics ranging from Britney Spears ("STOP YOUR SCLAUNDRES OF BRITNEY!") to Brokeback Mountain ("I WOLDE I KNEWE HOW OF THEE I MIGHT BE QUITTEN!"). You kind of need to know some Middle English to appreciate it. However, I feel confident that there's some degree of overlap among Xena fans, lulzspeakers and Middle English buffs.

I've been meaning to do a follow-up post on Marvel's Quasar book, which I first wrote about here, as well as the Annihilation: Conquest series to which it belongs.

I was intrigued by the characters in the tie-in books Wriath and Nova, so I've been following most of the Annihilation: Conquest titles since the series debut. But it's Phyla-Vell/Quasar and Heather/Moondragon, the lesbian lovers and heroes of the Quasar comic, who drew me into the series, and they're the reason why I'll stay.

So far, I've had one disappointment with the series, which I intend to detail here. In Quasar #3, Moondragon morphs from human form into dragon form. She gains some bitchen powers, but the downside is that Moondragon's transformation is permanent.

Quasar and Moondragon process this new development--and I do mean process it--in the middle of a battle. While striking Phalanx with her sword, Quasar says moodily to her lover, "You should have told me, Heather." Now in the form of an enormous black dragon with red glowing eyes, Heather tries to retreat from the relationship, "Phy, I'm not human anymore. I can't ask you to--"

But Quasar will have none of it. "I chose you," she assures Heather, "and you haven't changed. Not in any way that matters."

Now, if Phyla-Vell and Heather were just good friends, I wouldn't have a problem with Heather's transformation or the vow to stick together. Actually, it would be pretty awesome to have a best friend who was a black dragon.

But let's shift to the lover's perspective for a moment. I sense there's some coded plea for tolerance or understanding in this little transformation story. Like, if your partner turned out to be someone else than what you thought, wouldn't he or she or s/he have the same soul and wouldn't you still love that individual just as much?

In theory, yes. In the abstract, as concept, in metaphor, in some weird-ass outer space drama where species equals race or sex or nationality or what have you, by all means, yes.

But in the here and now, in the one frickin' Marvel comic with a lesbian superhero couple in it, Moondragon has changed in a way that matters. She has a dragon vagina. And, if you take a look at the illustration I've included, some nasty spikey scales in the exact spot where Quasar rides her. Ouch.

I'm holding out hope that, in the future, Moondragon will somehow find a way to morph back into a human being, even if for a limited time. In the meantime, my concern over the couple's inability to have sex led me to give the subject of dragon genitalia my attention.

I turned first to my bookshelf, and my copy of Dragons, by Dr. Karl Shakur. Because, if you want authoritative information about dragons, it is best to get it from a doctor, am I right? But sadly, despite being a dracontologist (according to the book flap), Dr. Shakur had little to say on the subject.

I then moved to the internet, thinking that some quick "safe-search off" googling would turn up something good. A wiki on dragon anatomy, perhaps. Some YouTube videos of choppy CGI dragon sex. A small purveyor of dragon dildos made out of crystal. Such were my expectations.

Now, I don't want to alarm you, but the truth is there is a sad deficit of information about, and apparently interest in, the sex organs of dragons. The best source I found was a site with sections on the anatomy and physiognomy of dragons, with separate sections for the eastern and western varieties.

This is what I was able to glean from the site: western dragons mate while in the air, and have no visible or external genitalia. Both eastern and western dragons reproduce by laying eggs.

Armed with this information, I began to think along the lines of bird or reptile sex as a possible model for dragons. Then I stumbled on the sex life of the Komodo dragon. Believe it or not, Komodo dragons have been known to reproduce through parthenogenesis.

That is interesting; that is cool. If Moondragon self-replicates and Quasar is named the second mom, I think I could hang with that. Or, as I suggested above, just change Moondragon back into a human sometimes so Quasar can at least get a piece every now and then.

Yesterday on Journalista, Dirk Deppey pointed to several commentaries regarding a current controversy about the treatment of women in gaming and finished by asking, "Apparently, there’s an entertainment industry even less receptive to women than comics. Who knew?"

Well, actually, I knew. In fact, it's one of the reasons I don't chime in about misogyny in the comic book world more often. It's a shitty reason, I know, but there it is. Whenever I get down about attitudes towards women in comics, I know I can always say to myself, "At least it's not as bad as gaming." The culture of gaming reminds me of the title of one of Ernest Hemingway's short story collections: Men Without Women.

I don't want to sound like I'm whining. I'm not easily dissuaded from what are often thought of as men's entertainments. I am also grateful for the many excellent gaming blogs run by individuals who hold more advanced views on women and gender than those found in the mainstream gaming media; several are listed on my blogroll.

New gaming communities are being created online that promise to be more open to women. I'm ecstatic over the recently launched Lesbian Gamers and the newly expanded GayGamer. One of the best things about the internet is that if what's out there isn't working for you, it's not too hard to roll your own.

The other day I was contemplating the possibility that L Word star Daniela Sea and teen heartthrob Zac Efron might have been separated at birth. The butch lesbian/teen idol connection seems pretty commonplace to me. Certain males can look very feminine in the years before puberty fully kicks in--the teenage Donny Osmond is a classic example.

Interestingly, a certain feminization can occur as men get older as well, or at least that's the message I'm getting from the web site men who look like old lesbians. I found this site through the Thrillest Los Angeles mailing list, which I subscribe to. Bruce Jenner is named as the inspiration behind the site, but it has expanded to include a wide range of men, and they take reader submissions. I don't agree with all the site's offerings but they certainly give one something to think about, much as the old site Lesbian or German Lady? once did. Consider, for instance: Roger Ebert or Walter Mercado. Now tell me that didn't make you think.

A few more observations: I see some of Gertrude Stein--the stance, the clothes--in this photo of Merv Griffin, and I find an uncanny resemblance to Billie Jean King in this image of Warren Beatty. My estimation of both men just went up.

I'm making up for the time since my last post with a catch-up post, summarizing my experience over the last few weeks. I decided the easiest way to do this was to divide the major events in my life into two categories: those keeping me sane and those driving me towards the brink. Here are my highs and lows of the past month:

Keeping me sane

• The Force is with me. The sister and I went out one night together and bought matching Sony PSP Star Wars Bundles. We had both held out on the system until now; she wanted it for Final Fantasy Tactics: War of the Lions, and I wanted it for Castlevania: The Dracula X Chronicles. We both love Star Wars, and Star Wars Battlefront: Renegade Squadron, the game that came with the bundle, proved to be more fun than I expected.


• Karma junkie. Under the Bush administration, I've become impatient with reading the news. I want my news straight up these days, that's why I depend on Max and Stacy's daily Karmabanque podcast. They don't futz around with the intricacies of party politics. They just give me what I want to know, raw: who made how much money killing, oppressing and impoverishing who. Their Gulag Wealth Fund provides a shorthand method of tracking what's really going on.


• Screamin' like a banshee. Joe sent me the CD of Siouxsie Sioux's new solo album, Mantaray, for my birthday. It's pretty gorgeous. Years ago, I remember hearing Siouxsie and the Banshee's song "Desert Kisses" when Kaleidoscope first came out and thinking to myself, "This is kind of lesbian." That's also been my reaction to almost every song on Mantaray. In this case, however, Siouxsie's said a few things in the press to confirm that interpretation.


• Girly stuff. I really, really like the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend's Elmo panties. The hot pink ones, with "Love Me" written in bubble letters above the picture of Elmo on the crotch. I know, I know. TMI.


• Aspirational television. I have been totally hooked on the show Damages. Week after week I've watched in awe as Glenn Close opened my mind to immense new vistas of bitchiness. Through the character Patty Hewes, Close has brought me to understand levels of bitchiness I never even knew existed. I ask myself: can I possibly aspire to such intensely bitched out behavior in my lifetime? Am I up to the challenge? Thank you, Glenn Close. You have raised the bar for me.

• Where there's fire there's smoke. The air in Los Angeles after the Southern California fires has been an abomination--a miserable, foul toxic brew. There is just no way to explain to you how bad the air feels, tastes, smells. The best word I can come up with to describe it to you is: chewy.


• I was robbed. Anyone who has had a girlfriend knows there's a brief window of time after your girlfriend has swiped some an item in your wardrobe when it's possible to get that item back. If you act forcefully within this time period, taking back the item in question, one can retrain the girlfriend, much as one would an errant puppy: "No. Put that down. Put it down. No! That's not for you!"
  However, if one misses this brief window, one has no option but to give the item up. And so I say now: "Goodbye, faithful bedroom slippers! Fare thee well."


• Another one bites the dust. Johnny Bacardi is leaving the blogosphere after five years of publishing The Johnny Bacardi Show. But all is not lost, as he can still be found on livejournal and at his Elton John blog.


• La nausee. While shopping in the Container Store with the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend, I suffered an existential meltdown as I was confronted with the full extent of my own lack of organization. I shuddered as the world was revealed as just so many things in need of being boxed.


• Don't tell mama. I missed Lucy Lawless's show in Chicago, a fact of which I am not proud. But I poured over the pictures and commentary from the event, and I contributed this lovely wallpaper derived from the show, which I encourage you to download. I will be there both nights of Lucy's Roxy shows in January. Email me if you want to meetup.

I have a new article on AfterEllen.com about the TV series nip/tuck, which premieres tonight. I was able to visit the set and interview two of the stars for the article. I had great fun with it. Hope you can skip over there and take a look.

I recently started writing for AfterEllen.com, a website devoted to lesbian and bisexual women in entertainment and media. I've been impressed with the way the site has grown over the past year and I'm happy to be writing to it. My feature on Latina playwright Odalys Nanin is up on the site as of today. The piece I wrote touches on politics as well as lesbian and gay issues. I hope you will go check it out.

I was impressed by Annihilation Conquest: Prologue, the first issue in Marvel Comics's world-spanning science fiction series. Although the writers seems to have borrowed some ideas from Star Trek's Borg, they at least picked a good source to take from. The first issue was meaty and engrossing; my only hesitation with this series is that it's yet another crossover epic that will require me to read many different titles--in this case, five--to get the whole story: Wraith, Nova, Quasar, Star-Lord and Annihilation Conquest.

I'm definitely going to pick up Quasar, the title named after one-half of the lesbian hero couple featured in Annihilation Conquest: Prologue. Quasar is clearly meant to be the focus of the two, since she's going to have her own title, but I really like her bald girlfriend, Heather, shown here. Actually, she likes to be called Moondragon, rather than Heather, which I think is very lesbian of her. I guess she's meant to be a crunchy-granola type lesbian. That makes sense, in a way, because she has powerful psychic abilities, as well as a mean high kick.

So I've been patiently reading DC's Countdown series, mostly because I read all of 52. It's like sitting down with a box of donuts and, after eating half a dozen of the pastries, thinking, "I guess I should finish them off."

I was in the middle of digesting Countdown #44 when I unexpectedly came across a storyline devoted to Holly Robinson, the current Catwoman. It begins with a lesbian pick-up scene. Now, if you've been reading my blog for awhile, you may recall that I attended the Dinah Shore Weekend this year. At that time I was able to catch up on the very latest, most in pick-up line being used in lesbian bars. I wish I could recall what the line was exactly, but I remember thinking it was much more direct than what we said back in my day.

This is relevant because of the unique pick-up line used on Holly Robinson in Countdown #44. Let me set the scene: Holly is standing on the street in Metropolis, when a beautiful older woman wearing a toga approaches her, a pet owl perched on her arm. Holly takes this costume in stride, understanding implicitly that many of her fellow lesbians dress eccentrically and are overly fond of animals. "You look as if you might need a place to stay," the older woman observes, then drops her killer pick-up line: "I run a women's shelter."

I know DC is trying to get with the program in terms of gay and lesbian issues, but really--no self-respecting lesbian has used that old line since the mid-70s. But maybe it's another case of everything old is new again, kind of like the return of 70s fashion with its dark brown and light blue color combinations. At any rate, Holly isn't being picky and heads off to "the women's shelter" with her new special friend.

As you can see from the illustration above, this particular women's shelter features a Jacuzzi bath and many scantily-clad women lounging about. It actually looks a bit like the Burke Williams Spa in Santa Monica before they remodeled it in a faux rustic California Mission style. I don't think this Sapphic baths scene is going to play out well for Holly Robinson, but I'm definitely curious about what's going to happen next at this particular women's shelter.

I've now read Amazons Attack! issues #2 and #3 and I think I've found the golden nugget in this series. It's Phillipus and Artemis, Hippolyta's top generals and leaders of the Amazon attack on the U.S. These two clearly need their own series. I'd certainly buy it. I've already been led into buying a half dozen tie-in titles just to follow this attack story, so why not one more?

The Amazons Attack! series continues to confuse me with its witting and unwitting camp references. At the end of issue #2, when it was announced that all of Kansas was on fire (because of the attack!), it took me a full minute to remember that Kansas was Clark Kent's boyhood home, even with a helpful illustration showing Superman flying over fields of corn. My first thought was, "It's not just those dykey Amazons attacking, they've got all the friends of Dorothy in Oz riled up, too. They're striking back at Miss Gulch!"

I recently finished a wonderful novel by Judith Katz called The Escape Artist. I'd previously read and enjoyed Katz's first novel, Running Fiercely Toward a High Thin Sound, a contemporary coming of age story. The Escape Artist is a period piece that takes inspiration from the late nineteenth century migration of Jewish people from villages in Russia and Eastern Europe to Buenas Aires and the settlement known as "Palestine on the Pampas," or Moisesville.

If you are a fan of Sarah Waters's novels, you should definitely consider picking up The Escape Artist. Like Waters's Fingersmith and Affinity, The Escape Artist involves a lesbian affair with an intricate plotline set against a colorful background of petty criminality and vice. The elements of cross-dressing, betrayal, and attentiveness to period detail and atmosphere that make Waters's novels so delectable can all be found in Katz's book.

The novel explores the metaphor of "the escape artist"--the Houdini-like figure with a gift for moving magically in and out of tight spaces. Another book that deals with Jewish culture and diaspora, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, examined this metaphor in relation to comic book superheroes and the work of the artist. In the Escape Artist, the metaphor is extended to those who are flexible and dexterous regarding gender and sexuality.

If you decide to read Katz's marvelous book, you may want to bookmark a Yiddish-English Glossary, since the novel contains many Yiddish words and phrases. I tried asking the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend to translate for me, even though her Yiddish mostly consists of curses like, "Go shit in the ocean." She recognized some of the words, but the rest she looked up at the web resource mentioned above.

I'm back now in Los Angeles after visiting New York to see Lucy Lawless perform at the Canal Room. I went Friday and Saturday night to Lucy's concerts, and I have some related impressions from Thursday night to give as well. My report is coming to you in the form of a three-day mashup, moving freely back and forth between dates, discussing what I thought was most notable in my experience each night.

The Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I arrived in New York on Thursday, a little too late in the evening to catch Lucy's first concert on May 31. After checking into our hotel, we went for a walk in Greenwich Village with the lights from the Empire State Building--lit up lavender for gay pride month--shining in the distance. We passed various gay and lesbian hot spots before, with echoes of sweet freedom whispering in our ears, we turned south to check out the scene outside the Canal Room.

Approaching the corner club, we felt the pounding of music coming towards us from a distance. As the music became clearer, we could make out Lucy singing "Piece of My Heart." I rested my palms against the walls of the club and felt them pulsating with the music. I didn't know it at the time, but I was standing against the wall that stood directly behind the band.

The Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I were standing on the sidewalk checking out the club when a door swung open sharply and out walked a tall blonde in a silvery space-like suit followed by several body guards. It was Lucy. She did a quick U-turn, flung open the door next to the one she'd just walked out of, and disappeared inside. The Girlfriend and I turned to each other, eyes wide. The club was built so that Lucy had to exit the stage onto the street, then re-enter through another door to reach the "backstage" area.

After our unexpected sighting of Lucy, we went to chat with two of the Club's doormen. I wanted to know when fans had started lining up, so we could figure out the best time to get in line on Friday.

"They started showing up at 10:00," said one doorman.
"You are shittin' me," I shot back.
"We had to bring them water," the other doorman confirmed. "They got very hot."
"Better show up early tomorrow," the first doorman advised.

On Friday, we got in line outside the Canal Room at quarter past five. Looking at the people in front of me, I was taken aback by how many I recognized from L.A. events. The L.A. fan contingent that came to New York for the shows was much bigger than I expected. It made me feel so much more emotionally healthy to know that in terms of the extent of my obsession I was just one among many.

The Canal Room was comparable in size to the Roxy in Los Angeles, although the stage was significantly smaller. It looked like a tight squeeze for the band, and there was less room for Lucy and her backup singers to maneuver. Still, I thought it was a great choice for a venue: small enough to remain intimate, cool enough for rock and roll, nice enough to feel safe.

Tig Nataro opened on Friday with a comedy routine liberally sprinkled with Xena fan references and Lucy anecdotes. The high degree of audience overlap among concerts made it challenging for the comic to keep her material fresh, a fact she demonstrated by leading the crowd in a hilarious group retelling of her "no moleste" joke.

Friday was probably a better showcase for Tig's standup, and a better introduction to her act for newcomers. However, having seen her act before, I really appreciated Tig's performance on Saturday, when she jettisoned her routine in favor of improvisation and riffed off the audience's responses. It takes a very agile, quick mind to do that--Ellen DeGeneres and Paula Poundstone are comics who excel at this kind of audience engagement--and I enjoyed seeing what Tig was capable of doing off the cuff.

Lucy came out on Friday and Saturday nights singing "Feeling Good" wearing her new liquid metal catsuit and open-toed black heels. The stage lights played across the fabric of the catsuit as Lucy moved, glimmering back a warm red, hot fuchsia, and cool blue, purple, or lavender as the lights changed with the mood of the music. Lucy wore her hair down for the first part of the show, and her long blond locks appeared straightened. On Saturday, matching pinpoint highlights in her eyeshadow made her blue eyes stand out even more than usual.

At the New York concerts, Lucy did not chat with the audience with the frequency that she did at the Roxy, nor did she speak at length. In the first half of the show, one song segued quickly into the next. Dancing, vamping, and goofing with lead backup singer Sharlotte Gibson, Lucy performed several songs from her earlier shows, including "I'm the Only One," "Down On My Knees," "Maxine," "Total Control," "The Cowboy Song," "Let's Give Them Something to Talk About," and a new song for Lucy, "Shaky Ground."

For me, the performance highlight on Friday was Lucy's rendition of Sophie B. Hawkins's "Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover." Lucy introduced it as a song about "lady love" and expressed the hope--sincere it seemed, though it's sometimes hard to tell with Lucy's sense of humor--that it wouldn't shock anyone. There was a certain breathlessness in the room during the song as the audience listened, spellbound. In the end, the crowd appeared to be profoundly unshocked, based on the noticeably lengthy applause the song received. In my opinion, Lucy's rendition was an improvement on the original, both more soulful and more urgent.

Lucy dedicated several songs to friends and family in the audience, including husband Rob (Friday's "You Take My Breath Away") and daughter Daisy (Saturday's "I'll Stand By You"), among others. The first part of the set came to a close with Lucy's romantic rendition of "Do You Wanna Dance?" followed by the showstopper "Piece of My Heart" with Sharlotte. Lucy's band, led by Michael Orland, ripped into "Piece of My Heart" Saturday night, just killing it! They looked like they enjoyed playing it as much as the audience enjoyed listening to them.

Sharlotte Gibson took over the stage while Lucy departed to change costume. Already, Sharlotte seems to have become a fan favorite. Outside the club before Saturday's show, there was a buzz of excitement when Sharlotte appeared and the fans call out to her when she's onstage with Lucy. Sharlotte seems to know what we like, too, based on the partial leather lace-up bustier she wore on Saturday.

Sharlotte performed her song "Billy Comes Home," making a special mention of the relationship between the song's theme (bringing home U.S. troops) and New York. As was the case at the Roxy, Billy was there onstage, only this time he danced for the women in the audience. Everyone hooted with pleasure at this turnabout, with several women coming forward to slip dollar bills in Billy's pockets while he tried out some dirty dance moves.

Lucy returned from the break on Friday wearing a micro-length pink fringed dress festooned with transparent discs that flashed under the lights. Her hair was held back a by gem-studded clip that showed off her exceptionally cute and well-formed ears. On Saturday, however, she donned the chaps that the Xena convention audience overwhelmingly voted for earlier that day, paired with an electric blue bra and the mesh halter Lucy wore at the Dinah Shore Weekend performance.

A swinging version of "Tell Mama" was up first after the break, followed by "What I'd Say." This time round, fans knew to expect Renee O'Connor's appearance onstage as a go-go dancer during "What I'd Say." Confident and completely in control of the stage, Renee entered in a fire-engine red fringed go-go dress that showed off the milky whiteness of her skin and her tight musculature. Renee directly engaged with the audience, teasing and talking when the dancing was through. She brought a spirit of lightness and fun with every shimmying step. How to describe it? Seeing Renee fills me with that Younger than Springtime feeling.

In interviews, Lucy has often commented on how much she prefers comedy to drama. But as Xena fans know, no one expresses pain and anger quite like Lucy Lawless. Of course, with psychic pain being something of a specialite de la maison in the House of Lesbos, a significant portion of Lucy's fanbase wants to see that angst.

I can report to you that the power, the passion and the danger were especially evident on Saturday during the final songs of the evening, including "What's Up?" "True Colors," and the fan-requested Saturday-only song, "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Although my own taste in music runs more in the direction of punk (or in other words, the complete opposite direction of "Total Eclipse of the Heart,") I found Lucy's rendition of the song devastatingly raw. It was my favorite performance on Saturday.

For the finale, Lucy chose the 1973 hit, "Delta Dawn," a great match for Lucy's voice and dark sense of humor. Back in '73, Helen Reddy's version of "Delta Dawn" was one of those songs (along with hits by, god help me, Anne Murray and Karen Carpenter) where the rich quality of a low female voice spoke to my body in a way that presaged the sexual discoveries of my teenage years. In other words, "Delta Dawn" was a song that said to me, "Honey, you're a dyke." So it was great fun to hear the song again so many years later, this time in a more celebratory mode.

After the concert on Saturday, I lingered a bit inside the club before exiting onto the sidewalk, where about 50 women stood in ones and twos, smoking intensely. I felt like asking the crowd, "Was it good for you, too?" but instead sought out my elated companions and we walked off together into the night.

Need more, Xenites? Visit my archives or search this blog using the terms "Xena," "Lucy Lawless" or "Renee O'Connor."

Over this coming weekend, the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I will be traveling to New York to see Lucy Lawless in concert. She's going to be performing this Thursday, Friday and Saturday at the Canal Room downtown. Standing room tickets are available at the door; ticket info is available here. There's also a Xena convention going on this weekend in Secaucus, New Jersey.

We're going to be meeting up with other friends and fans coming in from various locales for the concert. Although we recently saw Lucy Lawless perform at the Roxy in Los Angeles, she's changed up some of the songs in her act as well the costumes. I'm really looking forward to seeing the liquid metal catsuit that's been designed for the New York concert. Looks kind of 7-of-9ish but I bet the Battlestar Galactica fans will love it as well.

I was excited to hear that comic Tig Nataro, who opened for Lucy in Los Angeles, is going to be the opener again in New York. And Renee O'Conner--whose very existence is like a balm that daily soothes my weary soul--is going to repeat her go-go dancing stint onstage during the concert. It's going to be hot and happening. If you are a Xena fan or a Lucy fan or a Renee fan and within driving distance of New York this weekend, you need to get yourself down to the Canal Room. Just don't obstruct my view.

You may recall that the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I travelled to Palm Springs earlier this year to see Lucy sing at the Dinah Shore Weekend. Before you say anything, I just want my readers to know that I understand intellectually that traipsing all over the place to see Lucy Lawless is somewhat excessive. But we've both come to accept that we are powerless in this matter and have no choice but to follow Lucy around like two lovesick lesbian kittens. Make that two *adorable* *irresistible* lovesick lesbian kittens.


Don't get what the kittens are saying? You need to learn how to read their language. Learn the grammar of "kitteh" here; see examples here.
Back next week with all the deets!

Yesterday the Cute Little Red-Headed Girlfriend and I went to see WACK!: Art and the Feminist Revolution at the Geffen Contemporary, a satellite location of the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles.

I had read that the show was monumental in scope and the truth is that it was completely overwhelming. WACK! covers feminist art from the 1960s to the present day, both in the U.S. and abroad. The physical layout of the show was confusing and mazelike, and a minimalist approach to labeling (no narrative context, no translations) made it difficult to get a handle on many of the pieces on display.

Nonetheless, it's a collection that's worth making an effort to see and understand. WACK! represents the work of over 120 women artists, including Mary Kelly, Tee Corinne, Faith Ringgold--whose work is pictured here--Barbara Hammer, and Judith F. Baca.

The WACK! website seems to contain much of the context that wasn't present at the exhibit. There are photographs, exhibit walkthroughs, and podcast lectures by represented artists as well as feminist art historians available online for free. Also, the exhibit catalog is massive and well-organized, providing additional depth to this encyclopedic show.

Artwork from the late 1960s and 1970s in the U.S. forms a major portion of the show. One of the pieces from this period that intrigued me was General Strike Piece, by Lee Lozano, an avant-garde NY artist. In a series of written pages from a peyote-fueled journal, Lozano chronicles a series of acts she takes in pursuit of "TOTAL PERSONAL & PUBLIC REVOLUTION."

Another work, Prostitution Notes, by Suzanne Lacy, consists of handwritten or drawn notes on cardboard documenting the working lives of L.A. prostitutes, as well as her own reactions and relationship to the women she observes. Like Lozano's piece, Prostitution Notes, is as much about self-interrogation and self-discovery as it is about confrontation with patriarchy.

Some of the art in WACK! struck me as strongly dated. Visual works that incorporated magazine advertisements as a means of critiquing the representation of women seemed to veer into kitsch. Similarly, a few works that were taken as powerful gender critiques when they were originated seemed crude in light of more recent art informed by gay, lesbian and transgender perspectives on gender.

I enjoyed many of the sculptural and installation pieces in the show, including walking into Faith Wilding's cavelike Crocheted Environment, shown here in an older photo. My girlfriend and I were both mightily impressed with photos of Ana Mendieta's earthworks series, Siluetas. Mendieta created a working volcano shaped like a vagina and then documented it in the act of exploding. We loved seeing the earthworks vagina spewing red hot fire. I wish the MOCA gift shop had printed Mendiata's work on a coffee mug--I would have bought it.