What’s in a name?

Hello and happy Quarantining Day 532 — or so it feels like. Trying to stay positive in these trying times has been hard on all of us. Now I am worried I am going to get bed sores (well, couch sores). My husband knows to roll me over if it looks like I haven’t moved in a few hours. I feel like I am only a few days away from the “I wash myself with a rag on a stick, Lisa Simpson.” I hope y’all get that joke.

Every day it feels just a little harder to get up and get motivated to move or exercise. I always feel better after I do, but the motivation just is not there some days.

My fat ass has absolutely no problem getting motivated to cook and eat, though. Just this week I have made a lasagna from scratch and chicken and dumplins, and right now I have ribs being smoked in the smoker. I am going to be huge — well huge-er — when this is all over. Maybe I am preparing to hibernate in case this goes on much longer. God, I wish I could do that: Just go to sleep and wake up when I can finally get back to work and be around people.

They keep talking about how the world will be changed when this is all over — fewer tables in restaurants, everyone still having to wear masks, continued social distancing. The only upside to any of that is I will never have to learn the lyrics to any song ever again. I will do brand new songs every night — you know, since you can’t see my lips, who cares if I know the words!

I’m joking because that is how I deal, but seriously, I am worried about my job. I will suck the dick of whoever finally finds a cure. More than likely it will be a woman, soooo … High fives for that beautiful, smart lady!

I saw an article recently on a gay website reading Crystal Methyd for her drag name. For those that don’t know, Crystal Methyd is a queen on the newest season of RuPauls Drag Race. They weren’t really reading her so much as the show for choosing someone with a name that has such an obvious drug reference. It felt very “But who will think of the children?!”

The article annoyed me, and so did a few posts from very young, over-woke gays calling for her to change her name. I totally understand what drugs, especially meth, has done to our community. As someone who has beat addiction, I know better than most. But dammit! It is a drag name. Drag names and performers have always pushed buttons and, if anything, started conversations.

If you want more proof that everyday people are getting more and more sensitive and easily offended, where was this article when Sharon Needles was on the show? As a matter of fact, I saw the article about Crystal Methyd after Sharon Needles posted it saying something about feeling left out. I LOL’d.

I guess it just bothers me anytime someone tells a queen to change their name. RuPaul has annoyed me by telling Heidi N. Closet that she hated her name and refusing to call her by anything but her first name. Granted, her name doesn’t exactly flow off the tongue, but that is what she chose, and it should be respected.

Years ago, I actually had one of the girls from an early season of Drag Race tell me my name, Cassie Nova, was the worst drag name she had ever heard. She told me my name was stupid as she autographed a postcard-sized photo of herself that I did not ask for. (Said card was immediately thrown in the trash.)
Not that I am sensitive about my name or anything; I know it’s corny. But I love my name. I bet Heidi loves

hers.
Some girls put a lot of thought into picking a drag name; I did not. A thousand years ago, when I was 17, I and a few other baby gays went into Tapelenders on Cedar Springs. They had pornos you could rent stored in big binders that displayed the VHS cover of the movie. Like giddy little schoolgirls, we flipped through the pages like we were shopping for a husband, blushing as we gawked at VHS movie covers like Big Ones, Powertool and Rawhide.

Then we looked at one of the binders that said “Bisexual,” and we opened it up. BOOM! Right there, the first movie cover we saw was Who Shaved Cassie Nova!? We busted out laughing. I told my friends right then, “If I ever do drag, I am going to be Cassie Nova! That’s hilarious!”

Three years later, as I am being called onstage for a charity show, the emcee asked me my name. I said,

“James.” She said, “No dummy. What is your drag name?” Then I smiled as I remembered being in Tapelenders and said, “Cassie Nova.” Now, here we are, 28 years later, and I still smile when I think of how I got my name.

So let these girls have their damn names. Leave them alone. If you are offended by a drag name, you have had a very sheltered life. Focus on the real problems in this world.

Word play drag names to me are the best, and the crazier the better. Remember Shegotta Mustache? I miss her. Some of my favorite names are Charity Case, Emma Roids and almost any of the Amandas — Amanda Love, Amanda Phuk and even Amanda Hugginkiss. There is even a drag queen in a wheelchair named Sarah Palegic. Look her up; she’s fabulous.

In the beautiful words of Abraham Lincoln, “Stay the fuck at home and wash your hands!” Remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova.