Rent, then and now

If you look under Article IV.a of the gay man's membership manual (and no, I am not referring to Spartacus), you will find the following clause: A man, defined loosely as an organism with male genitalia, who is attracted to another man of the same species, is required under the bylaws of Gaydom to know at least 85% the lyrics/music to Rent.

So when Jonathan asked if I wanted free tickets to see Rent opening night in D.C., naturally I referred to the manual for instructions. Article IV.b : any invitation to see Rent, paid or otherwise, must be met with a shrill squeal, multiple handclaps, and a gay hop or two in the air (see picture iii.a for Jack from Will & Grace).

This was my second Rent experience; first time was in New York, in the gaping-wound-bleed section (nosebleed just doesn't do it justice). This time, however, I was front and center, literally ... row G in the orchestra.

It's amazing; no matter how well you know the show or sing it in the shower or hum it on the metro or blog about it or etch the lyrics on trees with a heart around them or gurgle Listerine to the tunes or strum the beat on your knees during counseling sessions for obsessive tendencies, the show is still impressive and new.

It's been two years since I saw Rent in New York, and so seeing it again made me realize just how much has changed in that time. I had just come out, feeling released, fresh and free, but still a bit regretful and angry with myself because I had spent so much time in the closet. For any of you who adhere to Article IV.a, you will know that we should "forget regret, or life is yours to miss".

It was a long lesson to learn; but in the end, I look back and realize that if I had come out any other way then it just wouldn't be my own unique story. And, seeing that there is no day but today, looking forward is much better than giving the remorseful past a moment's glance.