The greatest thing about growing old is being lucky enough to do it with friends, since it is your friends who will remind you of events in your life you may have forgotten. By the way, for any of you who worry about aging, I’m having a hell of a time growing old, so don’t be so concerned; like the rest of life, you make what you can of it. But this is about Bette Midler, so let’s focus on her.
Earlier this week, I attended a meeting with the residents of the new John C. Anderson LGBT-friendly senior apartments. They were having a cheerful discussion on security measures and, jokingly, Susan Silverman said, “Can’t we have an LGBT town watch?” Then she added, looking directly at me, “I remember when Gay Youth protected Bette Midler at Gay Pride.”
First things first. Susan, who is one of the residents, moved here to Philadelphia to be in an LGBT-friendly environment. She was a member of the famed New York Gay Liberation Front from 1969-71, as was I. At that time, I was about 19 and had founded a group, or cell as we used to call it in GLF days, called Gay Youth, or GY for short.
Our issues were all about agism, bullying, communications and security for LGBT youth. We were the first organization in the nation dedicated to endangered LGBT youth.
After the success of the first gay Pride march, which officially was called “Christopher Street Liberation Day March and Gay-In” — yes, that really was its name, and one of the original posters (stickers) from the event is in a place of honor in my den — it was decided that we needed something more than just speeches. Midler was well-known in our community, and I’m not sure who approached her, but she agreed to sing at our second (or was it third?) gay Pride in Central Park. Somehow, since we Gay Youth were always complaining that we didn’t get the respect we should from our seniors (translation: our older members mostly in their late 20s and early 30s), someone suggested that Gay Youth be in charge of Midler’s security. What the hell did we know about security for a woman who at the time was becoming a national show-biz wonder?
About the only thing I recall of that day was her greeting me at the stairway to the stage. She looks up at me, since she was so short, and says with that laugh of hers: “Yeah, this is my security.” She laughs, walks up the steps and says, “OK boys, let’s get this show on the road.”
Thanks, Susan, almost forgot that one.
Mark Segal, PGN publisher, is the nation’s most-award-winning commentator in LGBT media. He can be reached at [email protected].