Life's Not Just a Drag

By Gary L. Alexander

This book is about.wonderful hopes, and shattered dreams, the pain of growing up, and the pains of loosing family. It is about..what we think we cannot live through, but find we can. It is about conquering our mind and changing to what God wants us to be. It is about those things that we can conquer in life and how to be proud of those accomplishments, but more important it is what we can be if we do not give up. This life is not easy! What seems today as the worst day in our life, tomorrow just becomes a memory. I am so glad I did not give up during those difficult times. It is a story of redemption and salvation. It is a story of tragedy and triumph, of despair and being able to overcome what looks to be hopeless!He has been an accomplished survivor for over 70 years. He went from early family tragedy and low self-worth, to marriages and divorces, children, the military, dark days, the cheers of thousands as a female impersonator, singer, dancer, M.C., comedian, and stripper, to alcoholism and the very sexual 60s and 70s, and finally the humbleness of Gods Grace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481728348

Gary L. Alexander

He has been an accomplished survivor for over 70 years. He went from early family tragedy and low self-worth, to marriages and divorces, children, the military, dark days, the cheers of thousands as an M.C., comedian, and stripper, to alcoholism and the very sexual 60's and 70's, and finally the humbleness of God's Grace.

Book preview

LIFE’S

NOT JUST

A DRAG

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GARY L. ALEXANDER

US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.ai

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2013 by Gary L. Alexander. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/21/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2833-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2834-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904583

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Dedication

Introduction

Prologu My Choice

Chapter 1 My Family

1942

My Father

My Mother

My Brother

Chapter 2 The Grandmas And Grandpas

The Other Side Of The Mountain!

My Grandmother Cleatis

My Step-Grandfather Jud

Chapter 3 The Aunts & Uncles

Aunt Delores Uncle Gene

Aunt Theo Briggs Uncle Volt

The Other Side Of The Mountain… Again

Chapter 4 Uncle Hurley

Chapter 5 Born Into This

My Step-Mother

Now Go Out And Fight!

Yooo Major

Kicked Out

Chapter 6 California Lutheran College

The Contortionist

Dad Dies

Chapter 7 The Air Force

Mother Dies

Wife #1

Chapter 8 Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are!

Chapter 9 Those Show Business Years

Chapter 10  (I Thought) I Was The Greatest Star 

Twisted Sister

Sugar, Daddy?

A Hit And Almost A Miss

He’s Having His Baby!

Fantasia & Celeste

Chapter 11 A Rose Is A Rose

Arrested In Portland

Mary’s Club

To Change Or Not To Change

See My Agent

Chapter 12 What Do You Say To A Naked Waiter?

Special Delivery

Put Out My Fire

Jerlene Rome

Alexander The Great 48

The Naked Lunch

Take It All Off

Unzip Me With Your Teeth

Redd & Flip

Nice Feet

Chapter 13 Tales From The Road

The Empress Takes A Swim

Dorothy And Me

Emperor Of The North

I Bet On The Godfather Or You Don’t Want To Know!

Hollywood Here I Am The International Love Boutique

The Real Mccoy

Circle The Wagons

Chapter 14 Alaska

A Paste On What?

I’ll Show You Mine, If You’ll Show Me Yours

Alaska’s Hair Club For Men

Come In Out Of The Cold

Good Morning Neighbor!

A Lesson Learned Too Late!

Impress Of Alaska

Chapter 15 The Spit Glass

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

No More Funerals

Chapter 16 Dodging The Bullet

Really Changing

Meet My New Girlfriend Mary Jane

Chapter 17 The Late Great Planet

Church Of Christ Eagle River, Alaska

Chapter 18 Abbott Loop Christian Center

My Gift From God

The Man With Someone Else’s Legs

Down The Alcan Highway April 26, 1984

Chapter 19 Is There A Life After Drag?

Chapter 20 Long Beach

Wife #2

Wrong Stall

The Line Is Drawn

Chapter 21 I’m A Toe

Effie

Smokin’ Hot

The Hacienda Grande

Good-Bye Grandma

Chapter 22 Alice And The Rushing Mighty Wind

Chapter 23 The Va

My Stats

Musical Theater West

Chapter 24 Cottonwood

Chapter 25 The Prodigal Father

Chapter 26 Losing It All

Chapter 27 The Follies

Chapter 28 Autumn

Beam Me Up Jesus!

The Final Follies

Not The Final Chapter

Dedication

I dedicate this book to

the Glory of God

and the work that He has done in my life.

I also dedicate this book to my daughter and my grandchildren. If they ever get to read this I hope it gives everyone an insight into who I was as a person. I ask forgiveness for any hurt that I may have ever caused.

Introduction

This book is about . . . wonderful hopes, and shattered dreams, the pain of growing up, and the pains of loosing family. It is about… . what we think we cannot live through, but find we can. It is about conquering our mind and changing to what God wants us to be. It is about those things that we can conquer in life and how to be proud of those accomplishments, but more important it is what we can be if we do not give up. This life is not easy. What seems today as the worst day in our life, tomorrow just becomes a memory. I am so glad I did not give up during those difficult times. It is a story of redemption and salvation. It is a story of tragedy and triumph, of despair and being able to overcome what looks to be hopeless!

Hang in there, it gets better!

Prologue

MY CHOICE

I sat behind the wheel of that old blue Ford sitting in the driveway of my mobile home in Anchorage, Alaska, that fall of 1982, trying to decide which way to turn.

I was going through a lot of changes as was the world. Ronald Reagan was president and Prince William of England was born that year. AIDS was the big talk at that time. People were talking about this dreaded disease that was killing the gay community. For years that gay community had been warned of the impending disaster. Gonorrhea and other social deceases had been spreading for years. In my early years I got gonorrhea many times in Seattle with my sexual habits. I got it so many times, that when I went into the Health Department for my penicillin shots they just saw me come in and pulled my records. They didn’t even have to ask my name. I had finally got the message. I was in Alaska were I felt that I was somewhat protected. The decease had not quite got to Alaska yet, but it would not be long. It was very frightening. Over the years I had acquired Gonorrhea and Hepatitis B, and if I did not change my lifestyle it would only be a matter of time before the AIDS virus would catch up with me. I was afraid that I already had it and was too afraid to get the test. I was realizing that the decisions I had made all those years were wrong. I was very scared for many years after, that I had acquired the disease and would die and be a disgrace to my family. At that time there were no tests to see if you were positive, you just had to hope you did not get it. I would now make a decision that would affect the rest of my life.

I had not left my driveway, and I did not know where I was going. Don’t get me wrong, I knew at that point I did not want to go in the direction I had been going for at least the last 20 years. Now in retrospect I see there are two different roads I could have chosen. This particular Sunday morning was very important, I was picking a church. This would be a simple enough task for most. However, I felt sure that this choice to find a church must be the right one.

I sat in my car going over my choices. There was the Lutheran Church. I had many good times in that church when I was a young man. At St. Paul’s in Monrovia, California I had been President of the Lutheran League, I sang in the choir, and had been very active in the church functions although no one else in my family was interested in regularly attending. I had been Baptized in the Presbyterian Church as a child, the Lutheran Church, the Catholic Church when I got married, and the Re-organized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, when I was going with a lady of that denomination when I was in the Air Force.

Now I had also remembered living upstairs and next to an Assembly of God Church in Anchorage last year. I remembered on Sunday mornings I would look out and see the people coming out of church. I would look out to see their appearance as they left. Do you remember the term Holy Roller? I had remembered hearing that term in reference to this particular denomination. I had watched very closely as they left the church. The men’s ties were not ruffled and the women’s hair was not messed. As a child I had gone to my Aunt Theo’s Assembly of God Church. There seemed to be a lot of crying, praying and singing. I had come home that evening to ask my grandmother, who I was staying with at the time, It was nice, but why do they make the children cry? I had not understood the crying part until years later. The family would talk about my Aunt Theo and her husband Volt. Everyone would say, They are just two religious fanatics, talking in tongues and all that stuff.

So there I sat trying to make my decision. Do I go to a traditional church with the Lutherans and something I know, or do I go with the religion that I do not understand and probably would be considered a nut by my family?

I chose the traditional. I went to the Lutheran Church in town, and attended the service. It was the traditional one I had remembered as a younger person. At the age of 39 I was making another big decision. I sat through the service anxious to speak to the Pastor. I was told the regular Pastor was out of town, and the Youth Pastor would be officiating at the service. After the service I approached the Youth Pastor and told him I needed some counseling, and would like to speak to him. He made an appointment for me to meet him on the following Tuesday. I had already decided to tell him my whole story. I had to be honest with him, because sooner or later someone in the congregation would recognize me, and it would be all over. I walked into the office possibly a little unsure of myself; after all I was doing the seeking. The young man in front of me was probably in his mid to late twenties. He had on a traditional black robe and collar of a Lutheran Pastor. I began to tell him the story that had brought me here. This is my story… .

Chapter 1

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MY FAMILY

1942

In 1942 the nation was mobilizing for war. The year before the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor, and President Franklin D. Roosevelt had pledged the nation to victory. There was coupon rationing for fuel oil, and the Revenue Act of 1942 had included a 5% victory tax on all income over $624. That year the movie Mrs. Miniver, with Greer Garson winning the Oscar, was the big hit, with Irving Berlin’s This is the Army as the musical of the year. Millions listened to the Kraft Music Hall on the radio each evening. St. Louis won the World Series over the NY Yankees, and Oregon State beat Duke in the Rose Bowl 20 to 16. The music of the year included such hits as, Be Careful It’s My Heart, Don’t Sit under the Apple Tree, That Old Black Magic, Elmer’s Tune, One Dozen Roses, Paper Doll, Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition, Serenade in Blue, and Skylark.

In that same year we had the first Camp David, or Shangri-La as it was first known, Retreat by FDR. The Alaska-Canadian Highway was constructed in 8 months. The first golden record went to Glenn Miller for Chattanooga Choo Choo. Nylon parachutes were produced and the first tubeless tires were tested.

The population of the United States was 134,860,000. A three bedroom home went for $3,775, and the average income was $2,500 per month. A new Ford was priced at $815.00, and a gallon of gas was going for a whopping $.20. One pound of bread was $.09 per loaf, and a gallon of milk was $.60.

When people read the Sunday news they found Sad Sack that began that year. The last Ford rolled off the assembly line until the war’s end. Ration books were issued and victory gardens were planted. Bing Crosby sang White Christmas and Abbot and Costello were big hits at the box office that year. Television was just beginning to peak through the heavy clouds of the movie and theater business.

Towards the end of that year, on October 11, 1942, at 12:30 a.m., a probably very insignificant event compared to the rest of the news that year, occurred to Mr. & Mrs. Ralph Alexander. They had a son. His name was Gary Lee Alexander.

I was born to Ralph Donald Alexander and Shirley Jean Hooper. Our home was at 5016 S. Harvard Blvd., in Los Angeles, California. My father was employed as an Adjuster by Leach Relay. My mother was a housewife. My father was 24 and my mother was 16 years old when they were married. It would most likely be considered rape by today’s standards. My father had lived in California for just two years before meeting my mother. My mother had lived in L.A. for about 13 years.

MY FATHER

My father was born Ralph Donald Alexander, in Polk County Missouri on October 9, 1918 as the youngest member of a farm family in Missouri. He had three brothers and two sisters. Some of his brothers moved out to California, but later moved back to Missouri. I never remember father or any other member of that side of the family ever showing any signs of having any particular religious background. My father was a simple man, and a hard worker. He worked hard to provide for his family. I remember he would study very hard to pass courses for his city job. He helped put his three brothers and two sisters through school, but there was not enough left for him. I do believe he resented that. He was a self educated man, and became an electrician for the City of Pasadena. He was a short man, and as many short people do, it was reflected in his attitudes. He was about 5'6 or so. My mother was much taller. He had sandy brown wavy hair and looked a lot like Mickey Rooney. I remember our family went to see Windjammer at the Cinerama Theater one night in Hollywood, and people mistook him for Mickey Rooney and kept asking for his autograph. The words I would use to describe him might be angry, serious and hard working. He was known as a hot head, and his nickname was Shorty" because he had a short fuse. He would get angry if he did not win at cards, or his partner did something that prevented them from winning. He would take all the cards, tear them up and throw them into the air. To this day I do not play games. At least at home he was not a patient man. He was very handy with his hands in the yard and around the house. We had a swimming pool in the backyard when we lived in Monrovia, California. He built a beautiful patio off the back of the house next to the pool, and then enclosed it.

He had got a hold of some telephone poles that the City of Pasadena had discarded. He brought them home and came up with the idea of making a fence out of them. He cut them into six foot lengths, and then my brother and I were to then split them until they were about 1 inch slates. We then nailed the slates to the fence frame and enclosed the entire backyard that way. We also built two dressing rooms for the pool. It looked great. From those chores I had the confidence later on in life to do other projects like that around the house when I had my own home.

In many ways I was proud of my father, but I always felt he was never proud of me. I spent the rest of my life trying to make him proud even though he was not there and I could really never show him my accomplishments. Although there were times when I am glad he was not there to see how low I had gone, however, in the end he would have been proud.

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He hated the fact that I was more interested in the arts and show business than I was in sports. He loved his sports. On Sundays when the family went for an outing, he always had the little radio with the ear phones in his ear so he could hear the latest ball game. He loved boxing. I was never interested in either. I tried very hard to try and like them, but I just never did. It hurt him very much. He wanted me to be the macho son, but I never was. I tried at one time to run track. I ended up running cross country in high school just