This past week, like most weeks beforeand the hundreds of other weeks before that ( maybe a thousand, but who's counting? ) I attended a live music performance. I've been to hundreds of live shows ever since my first one ( John Denver in 1978 ) and most of them have been pretty stellar. I can, without a doubt, say most have been memorable experiences. And the ones I don't remember, not so memorable, obviously.
Tonight, I saw the incredibly talented ( and gorgeous ) Stephen Leonard at Rockit, and Monday it was Tony Award winner Levi Kreis with personal fave Eric Himan. Both shows were moving, fun, enlightening, and worth the tiny amount of money it took to go. But it sure seems that while all three artists were gay and gorgeous, my fellow audience members were decidedly hetero. Are the gays too busy watching Modern Family or saving their pennies for the final, final Cher tour?
Well, you're big fools if you don't get out and see some prime gay Chicago talent perform live. The beer is cheap and the boys are HOT. Whether you like the Bucktown hipster otters or just dumb/cute/straight, all is good. And if you need some help or advice, Mama Moose is here for you.
1 ) If you're going to see an act, read some reviews first. There's tons of great Chicago talent out there, but some bad. Google them or even trust our old senile friend, Myspace. And if all else fails, are they cute?
2 ) Shut the fuck up. You came to see a band. We all did. So let the guy/girl on stage do the chatting. And if you're bored, go to the other room in the bar or go home. No one is loving you for ruining their experience.
3 ) Finally, know your place. If you're tall, stay to the back or sit down. I'm a tall boy. Have been since first grade. I've never wormed up to the front "because I just love Robyn and I totally want her to see me." No. Stick toward the back. The twinks and small bears will love you more for it and you're closer to the bar.
So now you've got a start. If you're not finding the right sensitive or scary boy at minibar this week, check out Schubas. He might be there rocking the flannel... and waiting for you.