|Photo by Lucy Fowler|
(Under the threat of death by mortification, I've been forbidden to talk about my son or his performance, though I can say it was a good night.)
DQC loved the experience for several reasons: 1) the concession stand had air-conditioning (it was a very hot Southern night). DQC announced that, "We must award the royal fanners special gifts for they have perfected the art of keeping me cool while not being seen."
2) Every time our team scored (and this happened frequently) DQC threw her arms up like Evita at the balcony and drank in the worship. I didn't have the heart to tell her they were not cheering for her. "My people love me!" she crowed. 'Um, yes. Yes they do," I assured her.
3) She held her man-hands in gratitude for the crowds of people who came in a steady stream to make their offerings to her. "Look at them line-up for me! Do give them something to drink and eat after they make their offerings of coins and paper," she ordered. "Never let it be said that Queen Cleopatra VII was not appreciative of the adoration of the great unwashed."
At the end of the game, she retired to the palace (known as my purse) and demanded that we repeat the Friday Night worship of her greatness next week. Long-live Drag-Queen Cleo!