Mother’s Day Is A Drag

When your kids are all grown up, Mother’s Day doesn’t hold the same sweetness as it did when they were little. 

Back then, every thumbprint clay bowl or bouquet of backyard dandelions brought so much joy, that precious time when it doesn’t seem gross at all to wipe out someone else’s nostrils with your bare hands. 

Eventually, everyone grows up and the adorable homemade hug coupons go by the wayside. Mother’s Day celebrations become a little less cute, marked by piles of heavily perfumed bath fizzies and promises to return all the Nutella-encrusted spoons that they’ve squirreled off into their rooms, along with the realization that the universality of motherhood has not in fact, unified the world. 

Some families peel everyone out of their Sunday beds to attend formal Mother’s Day brunches, but I’ve never been a fan. Maybe because of my own mother, who seemed to enjoy the amazing buffet spread put on by a fancy hotel in the 1980s until the year I ate six eclairs and puked end-to-end on the hallway runner. After that, Dad would take us to the movies on Mother’s Day so she could have the house to herself for a few hours. 

Anyway, at this point all this mom really wants for Mother’s Day besides maybe a single chocolate croissant from Auspicious is to know her kids haven’t turned out to be snotty-nosed sociopaths. 

Speaking of which, I’ve definitely reconsidered my position on Mother’s Day brunch this week. It seems a few deranged people tried to launch a boycott of this Sunday’s “Drag Me to the Moon,” a family-friendly extravaganza featuring breakfast foods and the divine entertainers of Club One and hosted by Moon River Brewing Company. These delightful, G-rated daytime shows have taken place monthly for the past three years and obviously become wildly popular with young families, because there’s no more fabulous way to teach your children about art and inclusion than hanging around with a bunch of gorgeous queens that have a way better sense of humor than any Disney princess. And honestly, what pairs better with salmon quiche than sequins?  

But some can’t handle so much beauty, truth, and talent at the same table. A gaggle of odious bullies recently took upon themselves to target the restaurant and brunch organizers, lobbing accusations of pedophilia and grooming in a barrage of social media posts and voicemails. Resisting any temptation to go full Alaska Thunderfuck on the haters, Club One’s professional performers reported the posts for hate speech and responded to the attack with regal grace.  

“Putting on make-up and costumes does not make someone unfit to be around children. If you work at Target, your ‘uniform’ consists of a red shirt and khaki pants,” articulated award-winning tiara envoy Blair Williams, sliding in an ever-so-slight bit of shade. 

“Mine just happens to be a bit more sparkly.” 

Drag Me to the Moon promoters and Club One genius power couple Trey Norris and Travis Coles have seen their unfair share of nastiness over the years but always maintain the kind, generous countenance that fosters the brunches’ welcoming atmosphere for families. Over the years, the brunches have also served as fundraisers for local autism and Down Syndrome non-profits as well as LGBT-related organizations like Camp Lightbulb, a summer camp where queer youth can deprogram from damaging social mores and be exactly who they are. 

“Our message is to respect everybody, love everybody, no matter what their background,” affirms the supremely talented Trey, who sings and dances as glam goddess Treyla Trash.   

“It is the only way to function as a community and a society.” 

Treyla at brunch with a bunch of delighted families

Stale tropes about the LGBT community and children have always been around but are extra harmful in today’s political climate as violent maniacs and elected bigots are hellbent on denying healthcare, dignity, and basic human rights to gay and trans people. LGBT hate crimes rose 70 percent last year, and Georgia Equality reports this month of the doxxing of drag performers in Forsyth County as well as the murders last month of two Black transgender women, Ashley Burton and Koko Williams. 

More than 417 anti-LGBT bills have been introduced in state legislatures this year, including bans on drag performances in Tennessee and Kentucky, which only gave Lizzo more power. In Montana, house representative Zooey Zephyr was censured after she spoke out about anti-trans health care legislation (in cuter news, she and her longtime girlfriend just got engaged; mazel tov, lovelies!) 

These new laws have been couched in the guise of “protecting the children,” a cruel joke as not one of them adds resources to school counselors or castrates Matt Gaetz.  

If you’re like me and have spent your entire life struggling to understand the difference between irony and hypocrisy, consider this concentrated push to blame transgender and non-binary folx for society’s ills as a masterclass: It’s ironic that marginalized communities advocate mightily for everyone to be protected by the same rights. Politicians spending taxpayer money to oppress citizens who pay those taxes when multiple cretins in their own party are under investigation for sex crimes with minors is hypocrisy. 

The local drag brunch bullying is part of a national trend for the armchair fascist set, along with lasering off their Tucker Carlson tattoos and shooting up cans of Bud Light. Honestly, if it weren’t so dangerous, it’d be downright hilarious: 

First of all, Savannah literally owes its sparkly-slippered footing in the zeitgeist to a drag queen. For real, do you think Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil would have been even an iota as compelling without our empress of enchantment Lady Chablis and her “two tears in a bucket” allure?        

Also, while doxxing isn’t my style, I can confirm that at least one of the noxious zealots leading the charge against our local entertainers identifies on her profile as a fan of the “Jesus, Guns, and Babies Show,” which sounds like what ChatGPT would spew out as a political slogan for a daft election denier, if Georgia gubernatorial loser Kandiss Taylor hadn’t already taken it. 

I promise, I hold deep respect for religious traditions—especially those of local clergy who have voiced their support, including pastor Michael Chaney who proudly proclaimed he is taking his entire family to the brunch—and am not interested in wresting away anyone’s weapon. But there is no denying their “show” has done more harm to children than fake eyelashes and size 12 platform wedgies ever could. 

How much horse tranquilizer do you have to take to pretend you don’t know that generations of pedophiles have destroyed millions of lives while cloaked in the vestments of the church, with more abusers exposed every day? Why are you worrying about a kid from Ohio lip syncing to Katy Perry when guns kill more children and teens than anything else in this country? When does “protection” start applying to everyone else’s children? If only someone passed a law to make hypocrisy a crime!

The good news is that only thing the bellicose boycotters managed to accomplish here is ensuring that Sunday’s drag brunch sold out in record time. “For every piece of hate mail we got, I saw at least four in support of us,” said Trey, assuring that there will be extra tight security, because that’s what we have to do to protect the children these days.

But seeing our community rally around this has put some sweetness back into Mother’s Day again. That, and knowing I’ve raised two stellar humans who believe everyone deserves the same right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

As I make my way through the decades’ worth of bath fizzies, I can only hope they can also explain the difference between irony and hypocrisy.

Word to your mother ~ JLL