Chapter 16

“The old adage is that revenge is a dish best served cold,” Terrence was saying at another Coalition social meeting about a month after the repeal of the Miami-Dade ordinance. There was record attendance, and Terrence had to rent extra folding chairs to accommodate everyone. “But we are going to warm it up and light a fire under Anita Bryant’s feet at the same time.”

He waited for the ripple of laughter around the room to subside. “Some of you may not know that she is scheduled to be one of the performing artists at this year’s Summer Pops Festival in June at Municipal Auditorium. This was obviously booked before she began her Save Our Children Campaign, or she would have thought twice about coming to a city like New Orleans with its long-time gay subculture after accusing us of everything dastardly and predatory under the sun.”

Mara’s hand shot up, and she got a word in edgewise. “I still can’t believe she got away with it.”

A buzz broke out across the room, and there were even cries of, “Boooo!” and “Amen!”

Leo, who was sitting between Mara and Lake, elbowed her gently and said out of the corner of his mouth, “I was absolutely convinced she would fail. What did I know?”

Terrence continued more forcefully. “Anyway, we are going to get a parade permit from the city to stage a march through the Quarter to Louis Armstrong Park and the auditorium to protest her appearance there. The police will work with us, and we will not interfere with her concert. We will not be harassing people who have paid their money to hear her sing or blocking entrances or anything like that. This will be a peaceful protest to let her know—to let the world know—that we will not let her depiction of us remain unchallenged. We will not let her think that she has silenced us because she got one ordinance overturned by hook or crook, but mostly by lying to the world about us.”

Applause interrupted him briefly at that point.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” Terrence added. “We’ll be coordinating with the Metropolitan Community Church and the gay Mardi Gras Krewes to sign people up for our peaceful march. That’s the only kind of recruiting we’ll do, despite what Anita Bryant and her pious fellow travelers say about us. We are also going to work with the bars and discos to begin a boycott of Florida orange juice. If you can’t live without your OJ, be sure you buy a brand that clearly indicates it’s from California or Brazil. Or take Vitamin C pills.”

Again, Mara waved her hand. “I don’t like orange juice anyway. It gives me gas.”

“Anita Bryant gives me gas,” Mara’s fellow hairdresser, the gold caftan-wearing George Kinsey, added. She had finally worn him down enough to join the Coalition, and he had been making his presence known all evening with his witty remarks. “She’s turned oranges, lemons and grapefruit into lethal weapons.”

After the laughter subsided, Terrence added, “I’m glad we can have a sense of humor about this, but it’s a deadly serious business. For those who can express themselves easily, we encourage a letter-writing campaign to the Florida Citrus Commission. We have a handout over there for you on my dining room table with the address and some guidelines. Be civil and straightforward in your language. Be business-like. Say nothing insulting about them or Anita Bryant, but be frank about your boycott of the Commission’s products because of the Save Our Children Campaign and the lies it promoted. I’ve already discussed this with Leo Marble and Lake Campbell, who make their living with the English language. They’re working on a form letter of sorts which we’d like for you to modify with your individual touches if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been a letter writer,” Pauly Dixon said. “I communicate with jiggers and swizzle sticks. So what we bartenders have to keep in mind now is to screw screwdrivers, right?”

“Push Bloody Marys instead,” Terrence said. “Or beer or wine or bourbon or whatever.”

“I’ve heard tee-totaling is good for the complexion,” George Kinsey said, pointing to his high cheekbones.

“We make this a pocketbook issue for the Citrus Commission,” Leo added. “By the next time we meet, Lake and I will have drafted that letter for all of you to use if you want. But by all means, feel free to strike out on your own according to the guidelines.”

“This is so exciting,” George Kinsey added, clasping his perfectly manicured hands together, his curled eyelashes fluttering. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be part of a protest. I’ve always minded my own business and whipped up masterpieces with my styles and cuts. My mission in life is to make other people look good, and that’s a great service to perform. But suddenly, I feel like an honest-to-goodness warrior. I’m so glad my friend, Mara, finally got me to come to one of your meetings.”

She leaned to the left, catching his gaze a few chairs away and smiled. “It had to happen. Your energy belongs here.”

“What can I say? She’s the warrior princess, and I’m the prince. Or is it the other way around?”

“Well-put,” Terrence said as a wave of giggles broke out. “But this is a different kind of war. It’s insidious because it relies on fear and folktales. These Save Our Children people only think they know who we are, the many professions we actually embrace, what clubs and churches we belong to and attend, trying to blend in the best we can in a hostile world. But they are mistaken, of course, and we have the right to defend ourselves against this latest onslaught of misconceptions. So as Leo Marble said, we have to hit them in the pocketbook and make them pay attention to the truth. And one other thing: encourage your friends, whether they be gay or straight, to join us in this fight. Spread the word, write those letters, and give up Florida orange juice for breakfast or at any other time. There are more of us than people could ever imagine, and it’s time we lifted the veil to reveal that to everyone. We have exactly two more months to fine-tune all this, so all of you, get out there and do your best. Troops dismissed.”

It was George Kinsey who shot up and saluted Terrence in military fashion. “Sir, yessir!” Others imitated the salute as the meeting ended amid laughter and genuine camaraderie.

Leo and Lake were huddling at his dining room table, drinking coffee and munching on the last of the Napoleons Susie Landry had baked and brought up the day before in honor of Leo’s evening recital consisting of “Some Enchanted Evening”, “A Cockeyed Optimist” and “Dites-Moi” from South Pacific. They were nearly through streamlining the form letter they had promised Terrence they would create for the Coalition, and Lake was reading the paragraph with the real meat on it out loud one final time:

Please understand that I have no quarrel with Miss Bryant’s right to her opinion, misguided though it may be. I believe in freedom of speech as much as the next American. This letter is not about that. But the Commission has hired Miss Bryant to promote Florida citrus products, a job she has performed admirably for a number of years now. She has rightly become identified with wholesome products that are good for one’s health. However, she has now embroiled you in religious and political controversy which I am sure you would agree is, as the saying goes, bad for business. Almost no one would disagree with her ability to achieve your objective of increased consumption of your products. Will that ability continue in the future now that she has become the center of controversy?

Along those lines, this letter is to inform you that I will no longer be purchasing any Florida citrus products for the foreseeable future. Obviously, it is your decision to continue using Miss Bryant as your spokesperson. Just understand that it will come at an economic price for you. I wish it were otherwise. I bear no ill will against the Florida Citrus Commission, itself, because I am very certain that you could not foresee something like this developing in your wildest scenarios when you put Miss Bryant under contract.

Lake shot Leo a quizzical glance. “Sounds very polished to me. Do you think we missed anything of importance?”

“Nope. I think we’ve summed it up perfectly,” Leo said. “It couldn’t be more professional. We just need to remind everyone to use respectfully yours as their signoff. And not to include any P.S.’s or impromptu phrases containing vulgarity or temper tantrums of any kind. That would likely get their letter thrown in the trash can.”

“Check.”

“So I’ll get busy running off copies for our next meeting, and we’re good to go. I predict the corporate bigwigs at the Citrus Commission will sit up and take notice.”