Introduction
What follows is an exact reproduction (well, bar one snip) of my one and only fanzine, Drumming the Beating Heart. It was written during the latter half of 1984 and was printed and distributed to a select few in the early part of 1985.
I wrote it, in part, out of cowardice.
I was in the process of trying to come out to the people who meant (and still mean) the most to me, my friends. I had gone through a couple of years of what seemed like absolute endless hell. They knew that I went to The Jolly Butchers and The Caribbean (both gay) but I could never bring myself to admit to their faces that I went there because I was gay, it was just that they were both 'good places to go'. Some of them even, on occasion, came along with me and I still couldn't admit it! Then an incident happened at an SF convention that was to change all that.
I was there with best (straight) mate Glen. One afternoon/evening we were both in the audience (although I think he was a couple of rows back) and they were selecting couples for a light hearted panel game, along the lines of Mr & Mrs. Several couples had already gone up when there were calls for the both of us to go up as well. Now I wouldn't have minded but Glen, who had been drinking along with the rest of us, refused and despite (or maybe because of) several attempts to get us up there took the hump and stormed out.
Anyway, after brooding about the situation and it's implications for a few weeks, it seemed to me like an ideal opportunity to use the incident as an excuse to come out in writing rather than have to try and tell my friends face to face.
Drumming the Beating Heart
This fanzine comes to you courtesy of (snipped stuff). The History... Cheers to the Queers was initially done as a vehicle for a need I felt to set the record straight regarding my friendship with Glen and to, hopefully, prevent a repetition of what happened at Silicon last year during the choosing of contestants for one of the games. It was to appear in THIS FARCE but, since Glen wants to take a break, I decided to publish my own (be it only a one off) zine rather than send the scribblings to someone else. So here it is... for your delectation/unbridled criticism.
CHEERS TO THE QUEERS AND MAY PROSTITUTES PROSPER
The Caribbean is a gay club, it's open 3 nights a week (Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays) and stays open till around two. Although this does get a bit boring and expensive (especially as I also go out on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays) I still tend to go out each night. I must admit that I go though periods when I get totally pissed off with the place and the whole commercial gay scene, hearing the same records (Hi-NRG/disco) night after night, seeing the same people, the bitching, posing and promiscuity. So much so that a few months back I got so fed up/depressed/lonely that I stopped going for a while. A paradox... I desperately wanted to find someone to share the rest of my life (and still do) yet I stopped going to the only place I am likely to find that person. I suppose the only answer is to go less and to stop looking so earnestly... as I've so often been told "if you stop looking someone will come along". Oh well, some of my more travelled friends reckon that all gay clubs are the same if you go to them enough times.
Although the Caribbean isn't owned by gays it is staffed and managed by gays. At the entrance you pay your money to Betty and sign the book. It is currently very cheap to get in - there are 4 different charges depending on the night, time etc. - free, 50p, 75p and £1. Off the entrance lobby are the stairs up to the disco and to the right the Piano Bar - complete with one very out of tune piano. This part of the club is only open on Saturdays and is mainly used by the older gays and by people who want to get away from the noise and crowd in the disco. At the top of the stairs is the cloakroom (manned (?) by Tim), the gents toilets (often, rather predictably, referred to as 'the cottage') and the main part of the club. This is L shaped with the entrance, main seating area and the bar in the upright section, the dance floor and the DJ at the corner and a few more seats and a pool table in the remaining section. On the end wall there someone has painted a rather strange mural. It depicts a naked man holding a banana (he is naked but is discreetly covered by some foliage), there is a roaring leopard, some coconuts, a naked woman (discreetly covered) and a couple of birds in flight - you don't have to Freud to work out the symbolism's. The other end wall is completely covered by four large mirrors which give the impression that the club is larger than it is - it's also handy for checking your hair, make-up etc. ... vanity rules!
There have been quite a few changes at the club since I started going 2 years ago. The manager at the time was Stuart. He wasn't a particularly likeable bloke, the more I think about it the more I realise how much of a lousy manager he was - he was apparently a bastard to work for as well. Apart from (or despite) an ability to remember almost everybodys names he didn't mix well. He seemed to want to try and keep as much distance between himself and the customers as he possibly could. He only had a small group of people he knew - or just liked - and that was it. He could be downright unpleasant at times. He didn't like men wearing make-up (except for fancy dress) and certainly didn't approve of us touching up our make-up in the gents. He even forbade (not that many took much notice) the use of poppers in the club - except, that is, when they were being sold by Clone Zone or MCM (touring gay shops that appear at the Caribbean occasionally). He couldn't very well object then because not only does a visit by one of the shops tend to draw in a few more people than usual ... he used to put the entrance charges up!
Dougie, the present manager, is totally opposite. He was a regular at the Jolly Butchers (a gay pub I used to frequent) before he took over at the Caribbean so he knew a lot of people. This seems to have helped his management at the club as he spends a lot of time wandering around taking to people. He couldn't care less about men wearing make-up - he actually put a larger mirror in the gents AND put a light just above it! The club even sells a range of poppers over the bar now! He has also improved the place by rearranging the seating slightly, he's had a large fan installed in the ceiling (which was desperately needed) and improved the lighting round the dance floor. Unfortunately he has also had a smoke machine installed, which is OK once the smoke has had a chance to diffuse throughout the dance floor but is a bit overpowering if you happen to be dancing near it when it gets switched on. One little thing that still needs to be done is for the whole interior to be completely re-decorated. Quite a task. Most of the wall space at the moment is covered by a revolting red/rust coloured velvet wallpaper and , apart from round the dance floor where it's painted black, the rest is painted a disgusting turquoise/blue.
One of the unsolveable problems with the place is the size, it's just too small for the number of people who go. At it's busiest the can be well over 300 there (the fire regulations for the building apparently say only 150). You have to fight your way to the dance floor and then, if you're lucky and the record hasn't finished, try to dance in a space barely two foot square. As you can imagine with that number of bodies in a confined space the heat and humidity is staggering - the walls round the dance floor are running with condensation well before midnight. The only ventilation is a few half open windows, the fan obviously helps a bit but it's nowhere near enough.
Unfortunately there has been a dramatic increase in the number of straights at the club. There has always been a number of Fag Hags and people who genuinely like, or at least don't mind the, company of gays. Believe me I have nothing against straights at the club, most of my best friends are straight - but I think it's now getting out of control. For instance, a couple of times recently I have seen people I know there - people I wouldn't expect to see at any club let alone a gay one. At the time it didn't bother me too much but I'm beginning to wonder about who I might see up there next. I think the increasing possibility of seeing someone you know can be off putting, particularly for those who aren't 'out'. There are certainly a large number of faces I haven't seen at the club for a very long time.
There are getting to be more and more theme and fancy dress nights at the club since Dougie took over. The theme nights are generally a chance for the clones to come out of the woodwork and air their uniforms - the leather and denim men, construction workers, sailors, marines etc...all wandering around showing off what they think they've got. The fancy dress nights are on a competition basis, unfortunately there aren't many who are prepared to dress up in things they wouldn't normally wear and make fools of themselves. I don't care, I've gone in for three so far. The first was a Halloween party last year ... no comments about not needing make-up please! Then, earlier this year, there was a general fancy dress party. I went in a red dress that I'd made for the occasion and won second prize - a £10 gift voucher for the MCM shop. More recently there was a Midsummer Drag Ball, again I went in a little number that I'd run up. This time it was a tight black skirt that I wore with a white shirt, a well padded bra, black tie, studded belt, fishnets, stilettos and a whip ... some people reckoned I looked like a police woman - some police woman! This time I won first prize - a hairdryer ... if there's one thing I don't need it's another hairdryer. Unfortunately the night was marred by the feeling that I hadn't won on my own merits - the judges being relations of my friend Nigel (they were his mother, his sister and her fiancé). Dougie didn't seem too happy about it either but he would never have said anything.
Nigel has been going to the club for nearly a year now. When he first went it was almost two weeks before anyone asked him if he was male or female! He used to wear a lot of make-up and although he is wearing less nowadays anyone who doesn't know him still assumes he's female. Nigel is very much an extrovert particularly, like most of us, when he's pissed. Although like most kids his age (19) he can be a right pain at times I miss him when he's not at the club.
One thing I have come up against is the unfortunate readiness to assume that if you are seen with someone a few times you must be lovers - you aren't allowed to be just friends. It happens (still) with Nigel and myself. On the scene it doesn't matter - we make a joke of it and occasionally play up to it. Cons, on the other hand, can be a little more awkward. Fare enough, people assume/accept that I'm gay but they also have a tendency to presume that whoever I'm with is also gay and that we must, therefor, be lovers - such is not the case. I know, for the most part, nobody means anything by it but it obviously gets a bit much for my friends (and me) when their heterosexuality is constantly being called into question. Even if I were to share my room at a con with another gay person it wouldn't automatically follow that anything was 'going on'. There would certainly be no doubt whatsoever if I ever did go to a con with a lover!
On the subject of relationships, there are a number of people who say that "they are just a throwback to the oppressive ideas of heterosexual pair-bonding and that just because heterosexual couples are expected to be monogamous it doesn't mean that gays should accept that they should also have only one partner at a time" etc. etc. Me, I couldn't give a toss if it's 'heterosexual oppression' or not, I need the security of a permanent, monogamous relationship. Whether or not such a relationship can endure within the confines of the club scene I'm not sure - I doubt it somehow. Contrary to what a lot of gays seem to want there is a great deal against couples staying together, the main being the enormous opportunities for casual sex. Jealousy has destroyed no end of gay relationships.
On couple who seem to be an exception are Michael and Richard - they have been 'married' for 20 years now and they often go to the Caribbean. I met Michael in the Jolly Butchers where, when he wasn't a customer, he worked part time behind the bar. Michael is an absolute extrovert, there's never a dull moment when he's about. Whenever he and Jill, the barmaid, got going it was hilarious. I wish that everyone could meet someone like Michael when they are new to the gay scene - he is the greatest introduction anyone could have. It was several months before I got to meet Richard as he works abroad a lot of the time. Richard is a lot quieter and more reserved than Michael. I shall never forget the look (somewhat akin to horror) that crossed his face and the almost audible thought "what is it?" when we first introduced. It was a while before he could bring himself to stand near me let alone talk to me. He wasn't the only one, Jill told me once that her reaction on seeing me walk into the pub for the first time was "bloody hell, here comes trouble". Too often, unfortunately, a persons character is assumed from what they look like.
I could write more about others I know from the scene ... the aforementioned Jill and her girlfriend Flora, Steve, John the hairdresser, Larry, Ian, Julie, Ashley, John the funeral director, Mark to name a few but it would get very boring for you and me.
The saying 'familiarity breeds contempt' certainly appears to be true when it comes to the gay scene, in my case at least. I've decided to go to the club only once (well, maybe twice) a week - it'll save money and hopefully I won't get quite so fed up. I shall try not to look so eagerly for a partner and who knows someone may turn up to fill the gap in my life.
POSTSCRIPT - 4 MONTHS LATER
Dougie has started to re-decorate the place. The dreadful velvet wallpaper is going and is being replaced by a white textured covering. It's only half done but already the place is looking a lot better. The pool table has gone, I've no idea what he's going to do with all that extra space - at one time there was an possibility that the DJ was going to be moved up to that end but that's where Clone Zone and MCM usually have their shops and I can't think of anywhere else they can go. Dougie has managed to fit even more lights round the dance floor. Unfortunately the damned smoke machine is still there.
Nigel got himself arrested. The headline in the local paper read "Arrested 'prostitute' was a man - court told". Apparently, until the police woman heard his voice, she thought she was arresting a female prostitute. Mind you he was wearing a dress and was in the Norwich red light area so I'm not really surprised. He was given a conditional discharge and a fine but I've recently heard that he has been sent to prison for 5 months, apparently he didn't/couldn't pay his fine and didn't keep the appointments with his probation officer. I've also been told (true or not) that he is kept in solitary confinement - presumably for his own protection.
I stopped going to the club again. This time for 2 months. My main excuse was that my car had given up the ghost and that it was getting too much catching a bus into the city and having to get a taxi home. Fortunately I was only without a car for about 2½ months. The week that I got a new one I went back to the club - that was 7/12/84 and I haven't been back since. Despite the break the place was just as boring - it's definitely all become too familiar. I don't think I'm the only one that enjoyed myself more when I first started going. I actually used to look forward to going, nowadays it's more of a chore - I feel I ought to go. I'm sure not all of it can be put down to the fact that it was something new for me (having only been used to the gay pub scene) I think it was better in those days. It was certainly less crowded then and perhaps, as there was a higher percentage of gays, the atmosphere seemed a lot more friendly - everyone appeared to know everyone else, I certainly knew more people then. The music was better then too. The previous 18 months or so had seen the rise of groups such as Blancmange, Culture Club, Human League, Soft Cell, Tears for Fears and Yazoo. The Clash had released Combat Rock, Theatre of Hate had released Westworld and New Order were probably still in the charts with Blue Monday/The Beach. The DJ, for all his faults, played a good selection. He couldn't really go wrong with such records around. Today the scene appears to have blindly taken on Hi-NRG to the exclusion of almost everything else - it seems that our big brothers over the water can do no wrong. I think things were better then possibly despite Stuarts bad management. Perhaps Dougie is doing too good a job in sprucing up the club, although I think the rot had set in before he took over. Maybe it's just a sign of the times. I suppose it's possible that I've become too cynical - maybe we all have (definition of a cynic: a realist - or is that just me being cynical?). Whatever the reason, there is definitely something missing from the club I used to enjoy going to.
Well that's about it, all this writing has been very exhausting and it's been made even more difficult by the fact that it's a subject that I have never fully discussed with anyone. I've lost count of the number of re-writes that I've had to do. I only hope that I've managed to communicate something of myself. I suppose I'll go back to the Caribbean again sometime, though god knows when. I keep meaning to go back to the pub scene but I haven't got round to it yet. I wonder what that's like now - it used to be good. Oh well, such is life.
My thanks go to Glen for printing this for me, for the loan of his type-writer, the stencils and large bottle of corflu, for his help in collating and for his friendship and support.
Typing, spelling and grammatical errors courtesy of me.
