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"Glamour Galore" - a trilogy
The Family Jewels is a comedic mystery and the first book of the trilogy, Glamour Galore. Our industrious author is madly scribbling away with
frantic haste the next two novels. Naughty Astronautess, the middle novel,
recounts the adventures of the first drag queen astronaut. The concluding novel, The Mermaid and the Sailor, is a romantic romp set in Provincetown.
These three Gay novels are escapist froth intended to make you laugh while
you ponder the human condition. The word glamour derives from the Scottish word meaning, to cast a
magic spell. With this ancient definition in mind it is perhaps fitting that
glamour is suspect and considered contrary to the purpose of modern realism.
After all, who amongst us in this age of purported reason is willing to submit to
the dangers of magic? Just look at what happened to the soccer's apprentice.
The following are excerpts from "Naughty" and "Mermaid" which should
support the claim of total dementia.
"Naughty Astronautess"
Chapter 14: Bubble Bubble Toil and Trouble
La Diva was enjoying the massaging bubbles of her Jacuzzi tub while
she perused the script "Vampires Don't Fart". It had been a long time since she
had read this Magnum Opus so she had a lot of catching up to do. The first
aspect of this theatrical catastrophe that struck her like a slam punch to the
jaw was how remarkably awful it was. As a matter of record she could
remember with chagrin and dismay, how many people had made this exact
remark, or words to that effect. "The show stinks", was one of the more blunt
assessments uttered by, "That little prick from Gay Windows", Reginald Pew,
as he was for ever afterward referred to by Lilly and her inner circle. But
Mr. Pew was not alone when he dished "Vampires" to filth. A unanimous crowd
had rushed to the same judgment thereby racking the play permanently on the
drain board of fabled flops. Lilly had stubbornly defended her collaboration
with her esteemed mentor, Urna Flamanté, when she said, "It does have some
redeeming features". This line of unfounded optimism was once also uttered by
Genghis Kahn's grandmother when first presented with the little monster. But
redemption was hard to locate in "Vampires Don't Fart" except of course for
the title which was the direct result of a horrific acid trip that climaxed a
month long experiment with macrobiotic diet number seven. Whether it was the
protean depletion from thirty days of rice cakes and green tea or the inherent
lack of literary competence on the behalf of the two authors was a moot
question. The show lacked oomph and this was the least of its short comings.
Lilly came to this sad and belated conclusion only through the
perspective of time, and a heap of that commodity had slopped over the edge
of the rainbow since she and Urna had penned their ditty.
"It must be fifteen years since we opened at the Frères Jacques Café in
Bay Village. It seems like just yesterday", mused Lilly aloud, a habit of
narration she practiced with or without an audience. "I was a mere slip of a
lass then just back from Nam, and that dinky little stage was not big enough
for the two of us to even fart, much less sing and dance together. That was the
situation that inspired the title. Where the Vampires came in I forget."
The Mermaid and the Sailor
Chapter 1
The beautiful mermaid sat on a sea-splashed rock combing her unruly tempest of golden hair with a tortoise shell comb. While so occupied she whistled a medley of snappy tunes from the Boston hit show "Glamour Galore". After a while, having worked her hair into a satisfactory froth she sighed with satisfaction, put aside her comb and donned a pair of sunglasses bejeweled with pearls and rhinestones.
Out of the blue flew a scruffy looking black cormorant who laid a gushy turd smack dab onto the glistening shoulder of the lovely naiad.
"ARRRGH!" quoth she, "Two can play at this game!" and so saying she reached into her fishnet purse and extracted a moist towelette saturated with Aprés Moi Le Déluge perfume and removed the offending guano. Tossing aside the now soiled serviette the mermaid fished about in the depths of her net bag and came up with a cocked and loaded colt .45 revolver. She took aim at the offending cormorant who with foolish arrogance had perched on a nearby rock spreading its diabolically shaped wings, an easy target even for a mermaid.
"Mess with me and die devil bird!" screamed the enraged sea maiden and firing off several shots in quick succession, she let him have it. The slugs ripped through the bird's ugly carcass spraying broken feathers like the fleeting memory of a nightmare.
Then all hell broke loose! Sirens screamed from one end of the seaside resort to the other. The Coast Guard launched both of its battle-ready cruisers skimming across the bay towards the stone breakwater whereon sat the riled mermaid and the dead cormorant. A fire truck, an ambulance and two police cars raced down the Mc Millan wharf towards the ricocheting echo of the gunfire.
"Oh sweet Jesus!" exclaimed the mermaid, "Wouldn't you know it, orange alert! A girl can't even protect herself anymore. What has this world come to? Well to hell with you George Bush, I'm out'a here!"
Having uttered this unseemly curse the mermaid with an undulating wriggle dove head long into the murky depths of Provincetown Bay and swam away. Unfortunately she forgot her purse.
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