Because the old school gay is fast becoming the new modern man, AKA William theater contributor Ben Rimalower will, every Thursday, document exactly how, when, and where everything old becomes new again.
Straddling the line between old school showbiz cheesiness and contemporary short attention span whateverness, Ben is the New Old Gay. He loves Patti LuPone.
A friend of mine recently left his copy of Charles Busch’s novel, Whores of Lost Atlantis, at my house and, having loved the book in 1998, I impulsively dove back in. Admittedly based on Busch’s own 
experiences with his Theatre-in-Limbo in the 80s, particularly as the writer and star of the long-running cult-hit, Vampire Lesbians of Sodom, “Lost Atlantis” has been remarkable for me to revisit, now after ten years in New York City.
The first time I read it, my mouth watered at the description of the life of young, downtown theatre people, although I dreaded the thought of having to wait ten years for my own success, as Charles Busch had for his. Now, my appreciation goes deeper.
On one level, I get all the thinly veiled references, delighting in mental images of Julie Halston as I read about the character “Roxie” or recognizing Lypsinka in the famous drag queen who lip-synchs to Dolores Grey and Lisa Kirk. No longer enchanted by a far-away place, I now feel the warm, familiar sense of home reading about a Chinese restaurant up on Columbus or dance club down on Avenue A. And also now, I know too well the struggles of these characters’ lives.
The characters in Whores of Lost Atlantis are out-of-work actors coming together in the East Village of the 1980s to put on the eponymous show-within-a-novel, which Julian Young, the Busch prototype, writes one day while at a temp job. And until their little show moves to a commercial run Off-Broadway, they all make ends meet doing something outside of theatre.
Even writing this now, I am sitting at my office job, feeling slightly overwhelmed by my need to get this week’s post written while simultaneously not completely shirking my responsibilities at my day job. It’s always a struggle. If I’m working on a show, how do I find time for myself and for a social life with 
rehearsals in the evenings and on the weekends and my 10-6 eating up 40 hours each week? And I’m usually working on a number of projects, present and future.
At one point, I thought I had matriculated from the day job/show business balancing act. Having read Whores of Lost Atlantis my senior year of college, I moved to New York very focused on directing and producing a piece of theatre which could transfer and launch my career, not to mention support me financially. That dream seemed to be realized when I made my Off-Broadway directorial debut helming the New York premiere of Joy by my Berkeley teacher John Fisher, himself something of a cult figure, along the lines of Charles Busch, with such San Francisco hits as Medea The Musical.
But what went wrong? Why am I here at this desk?
8. September 2009 at 8:35 pm
Dear William,
Embarrassed to admit that I was googling myself and came across your beautifully written blog. I’m so flattered that my novel might be an inspiration or boost to you. I agree with you, that in some ways, the show biz/artistic world that I struggled to be apart of, is more open minded these days. On the other hand, economics makes it much more difficult for young people to get a foot in. The Off-Broadway scene in 1985 was much healthier than it is today. And I don’t think there is an equivalent to the raffish East Village today. But I can’t help but believe that if one is talented and very driven and totally open minded to new possibilities, no matter how tacky, and is somehow (and this is the most difficult part) can keep the sense of fun and outrageous delight in just being creative, than good things will happen. Look at the success of Urinetown and Avenue Q and I’m sure there are more recent examples but I’m too antiquated to know them. I’m going back to my beginnings in February. I’ve been feeling rather frustrated and cynical these days and to reclaim the simple joy of putting on a show, I’ve just written a very campy, dirty play called “The Divine Sister” with fabulous roles for myself and Julie Halston and a couple other lucky friends of mine and we’re going to do it for a few weeks at Theatre for the New City, producing it ourselves and not invite any critics. Just have fun. Hopefully, you’ll come see it and find our fun infectious and not pathetic. Sincerely good luck and to quote my idol, Sarah Bernhhardt, “Quand Meme” which loosely translated means “Despite all!”
Charles
9. September 2009 at 8:30 am
Charles,
Thanks so much for your great comment! The New Old Gay column is written by AKA William contributor Ben Rimalower. I’ve forwarded your info to him so he can respond directly.