Click the below highlighted link to be mezmerised by the Pollys dance floor as Amarillo is played.


It was Pollys time again, and May is always my favorite dance, it’s a lot cooler after summer, but not so cold that it takes the shine (or anything else) from any amorous advances by frisky minx’s.

At tonights dance a friend brought along a lovely country lad, he’d never been out in Sydney before, he’d never been to anything ‘Gay’, so of course there is only one way to herald the arrival of a new wide eyed (not sure about bushy tailed) community member into the wonderous world of Gay Sydney, and that was to plonk him slap bang in front of a Pollys drag show.

The ‘Prisoner’ theme was lost on the poor lad, being as he’d been born during the 20th rerun season, the words ‘Vinegar tits’ and ‘Lizzie’ were totally lost on the wide eyed lad .. but not on me.

Seconds before the show started i raced to the front with my friend Beryl, we pushed the infirm and bewildered aside to make sure we were front and centre.

And what a show it was!, a steam press over to stage right had me dreaming of all the peoples heads i’ve long fantasized about shoving between those steamy boards, and cackling like Bea Smith as i give them a good old “PSSSSSSSSSHHHHHH”.

Better yet, over the back of the stage was a replica industrial clothes dryer, before long a Pollys cast member was thrown in, and the door slammed shut behind her, i could almost hear Lizzies cackle echo through the hall.

The show to ‘Jailhouse rock’ had me clicking my fingers like a hep cat, but once ‘Elvis’ launched himself into the crowd, and then flipped himself back up onto the stage, causing a major wardrobe malfunction, which revealed more crack than you’d find in a customs officers personal work locker, i was clicking more than just my fingers, it was an excellent recovery by the Elvis chaneller, and only those of us in the front row were treated to the true splendor of this anal-esque slip up.

As ever there were one or two surprises with Pollys, once the shows were over, and the house lights had come back on, out of the corner of my eye i noticeed movement on the stage, my reflexes had me lift my camera up instictively, just in time to see the industrial clothes dryer begin to rock, then to crash on it’s side, disgourging the forgotten cast member who sadly missed the finale .. but that’s art for you.

Of course stymying a dance floor revolution, the DJ queued up Amarillo, a good thing too, my nostrils were flaring this night, i simply wouldn’t have coped if they didn’t play my anthem. I must be getting a reputation for my passion, my frenzied moves to this song, as Miss Kitty came up behind me on the dance floor and purred ‘There, happy now?’

Yes, thank you Miss Kitty, VERY happy.

Postscript .. last time i looked, wide eyed country boy had retreated towards the back of the hall, clutching at imaginary pearls. I can’t be certain, but i think it was the emotion of Miss Joans reading of ‘Tie a yellow ribbon’ and the shower of streamers, that all became too much for the poor lad, i know it moved me to tears.

With love and thanks as always, to all who organize, and perform at Pollys, giving Miss Tammy here a reason to kick up her heels .. if not her ankles.


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