I Was Better Last Night: A Memoir

by Harvey Fierstein

Only science and mathematics offer do-overs. History may echo but never repeats. Humans struggle to get a recipe right twice in a row. I can’t count the times I’ve had friends visit after a performance only to hear myself say, “I was better last night.” Of course I was better last night. I was younger, fresher, braver, and had one less day of life clogging my brain. But most of all, it was last night. Time upgrades survival to triumph.

I was on fire.

I subscribe to an alternate and more direct philosophy: nothing changes when you say no, so say yes and let the world know you’re open to possibility.

Funny how that is. The jockey never recalls using a whip. The horse never forgets.

Marsha was one of the first queens to throw a bottle at the police igniting the Stonewall riots. Her death was far less valorous than she deserved. Her body was found floating in the Hudson River right off the piers where she plied her trade. The cops labeled it suicide, but no one believed that. Marsha had turned living into an art. She was wild and adventurous and loved by all. She’d never abandon life for a cold, dark, wet grave. Even a block away I could always hear her call, “Miss Harvey, you got any pennies for a lady today?”

the Trucks were a lifesaver. Looking back through the veil of AIDS, I realize that the last thing a sensible person would call the Trucks is a lifesaver, but it’s no fair judging from the future. I loved the Trucks and I loved anonymous sex, as a good line in Torch Song attests: “I never enjoy sex with someone I know.”

“You can’t camp about something you don’t take seriously. You’re not making fun of it. You’re making fun out of it.”

exes can’t be friends. There is a red line of intimacy that’s been crossed. Exes know things about each other that friends never could. You’ve altered each other’s emotional DNA. You can be friendly with an ex, but exes cannot be friends.

Breaking this news to Eric was easier than telling Estelle, who by that time was readying herself for stardom by quitting her day job and changing her legal name to Estelle Getty.

“Oh, Miss Merman, I am one of your most devoted fans. I’m so honored you came to see the show. Please, I’m dying to know what you thought.” She took a beat and then, loud enough to be heard in Pittsburgh, “I thought it was a piece of shit. But the rest of the audience laughed and cried, so what the fuck do I know?”

Estelle received the attention they both deserved. Court and the others took the snubs in stride, but not Estelle. When she won her Emmy for The Golden Girls she told me she’d trade it in a heartbeat for a Tony.

I apologized and told Joan about Christopher’s ashes as I placed them on the table next to me. Joan said, “Hey, I get it,” removing a small tin from her purse and placing it on the table as well. “I never go anywhere without a little bit of Edgar.”

Vito Russo’s book about the history of homosexuality in film is a treasure. Unfortunately, he lost his battle with AIDS without seeing it adapted into the award-winning film. Lily Tomlin was a great friend of Vito’s, and to raise money to make the movie she arranged for herself, drag superstar Lypsinka, and Robin Williams to give a benefit performance at the Castro Theater in San Francisco.

Madonna thought for a moment. “But do you really think I could play a drag queen?” “Of course,” I said. “Everyone’s already seen your pussy. It’s time to show them your dick.”

but the guests were my friend actress Lynn Redgrave; ex-punk-rocker Johnny Rotten; conservative radio mouth and adopted son of President Reagan, Michael Reagan; and me. A discussion of AIDS got heated and, sick of listening to Michael Reagan defend his father’s criminally negligent record, I blurted out, “You know what? Fuck you and fuck your father!”

I called my god “Group of Drunks” and let them guide me.

“Boy, am I glad this wasn’t a beauty contest!”

I had my dress rehearsal with the company that afternoon. Many members of the Hairspray cast came to cheer me on. I remember seeing Bruce Vilanch sitting dead center, first row of that huge, empty auditorium. Bruce had played Edna in the road company and was now doing a stint playing her on Broadway. I’m sure he was there to support me, but it was intimidating to speak my first line, one of the most famous in all of theater, directly to someone I knew so well. Still, I somehow spat it out: “A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no?”

saw Bette Davis in The Catered Affair. Originally a 1955 television play by Paddy Chayefsky, a year later the story got an MGM movie rewrite by Gore Vidal.

If we can’t face ourselves in a mirror, what gall to claim we can understand others!

Eventually, as animation history records, “The Snow Queen” turned out to be fabulous source material for Disney. Frozen, which I had absolutely nothing to do with, opened in theaters and became their highest-grossing film to date.

“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life, but define yourself.”

Six Steps to Live By.

Pursue the truth. Learn something new. Accept yourself and you’ll accept others, too. Let love shine. Let pride be your guide. You change the world when you change your mind.

Prejudice is art’s greatest enemy. If you walk into a gallery thinking you already know what a Picasso looks like, you will never really see a Picasso. How you look circumscribes what you see.

Is there a human price for remaining single? Probably. They say that couples live longer. I’d rather live happier.

I pulled together an outrageous outfit from La Cage leftovers. Arriving at the venue, I dragged my suitcase up three flights of stairs to find that I’d be sharing a dressing room with comedian Bianca Del Rio. It was love at first fight, and we’ve been sisters ever since. We did the show, raised a billion dollars, and went on with our lives.

One evening another gentleman joined me in the warm waters. It was none other than singer/scribe James Taylor. Obviously, I didn’t want to bother him, but I’m such a fan, so as I was called away for my massage I quickly said, “Not meaning to disturb you, but I have to say that the mere sound of your voice gives me goosebumps, and as long as I’m doling out compliments, that’s a really nice penis you’ve got there.” I think he was on his honeymoon.

The struggle for actors is not to make a character’s thoughts their own, but to ditch themselves and allow the character to inhabit their body and voice.

Escaping yourself is the best way to grow. A favorite quote of mine has always been “I never learned from a man who agreed with me” (Robert A. Heinlein).

“Each generation, at the height of its power, must step aside and invite the young to share the day.”