MO Beach Reads: Like a Lampshade in a Whorehouse

 

THEORY:  Phyllis Diller is a better gay icon than Judy Garland, Cher, or Madonna.

PROOF:  Like a Lampshade in a Whorehouse

Phyllis Diller's autobiography is probably not in your library, but maybe it should be. 

Then again maybe I'm biased.  Her story is strangely similar to mine, and she is sort of an inspiration.

Like me, Diller grew up in a small Midwestern town and her career as an entertainer didn't really start until she was 37.   (Granted my work on the second half of that equation  is  still in progress.)  What is truly inspiring though is that she took the tough things in her life - less than perfect looks, a lonely childhood, and a strained home life - and turned them into comedy gold. 

In her time she was the first and foremost stand-up comedian.  Taking stories of home life and turning them on their ear, Diller was able to create relatable stories to which audiences responded.  In the early years of her career she supported her husband, who suffered from mental illness and five children, often wearing the same clothes day after day.  A particular low point was having to send her children to in-laws as she could no longer support the family.

Diller overcame her challenges and professed in the "Magic of Believing".  Her own confidence in herself afforded her the time and patience to see her progression up into entertainment history.  Her story, honestly, is encouraging and inspiring and the last page cannot be turned without a feeling of hope.

(Any regular reader would know also that I had appropriated the name Fang for my ex.  It turns out that Diller's Fang was largely fictional, and the truth about Fang was far worse.  In this Diller was able to express some of her emotional bondage to her husband.  In time her Fang actually adored the caricature.  My Fang (now Mr. Ex) was not a bad guy, just not the right guy for me.)

The page-turner does have some flaws in that she glosses over affairs through the years and although the account is very personal, the reader could be left with a feeling of not know her entire emotional landscape.  Otherwise the 266 page book is a wonderful insight into a woman who, through self-deprecating humor, perhaps never achieved the greater glory she deserved.

Like a Lampshade in a Whorehouse is the first of the MO recommended books for the beach this summer.  Instead of featuring the expected novels, it is hoped to pull out some more obscure, yet worthy books that still have the essential 'beach read' characteristics of lightness, page-turnability, and fun.  Buy it.