“The harassment of the media is a terrible annoyance,” Schlafly continues. “They invited me on shows who would not otherwise have invited me. Because that’s all they wanted to talk about. And it was all done to embarrass me. I mean, my son doesn’t have any enemies.”

“It just made a big national news story that went on for weeks — about something that wasn’t anybody’s business,” the mom continues. “He was deliberately outed by somebody who went around brag­ging that he didn’t believe in outing.”
​
Did her son being gay change any­thing between them?

“No. He’s a wonderful young man. He’s my first born. And I love him,” she assures.

Was she ever afraid for her son being a member of the gay community?

“No. I’m not a person who’s afraid of things,” she quickly answers.

Did the fact that her son is gay ever chal­lenge her political ideology?

“No. Not really. Actually, he’s very support­ive of practically all of my work. He believes in the traditional family and most of the things I work for. We’re just a private family. And we don’t air all our personal problems out for the public. Now, I think that’s about enough of me and my son. Let’s finish this topic,” she orders.

But she did give one last piece of advice to the gay community for this Mother’s Day.

“I hope all the gays and lesbians love their mother and respect her,” she says.

And for what it’s worth, Mrs. Schlafly, most of the gay community probably wishes you a Happy Mother’s Day.

​With his impeccable lyrics about unrequited queer love, Mancunian native Morrissey — the "pope of mope" himself — often depicted his hometown as a dreary wasteland choked with ash-filled skies. His Manchester was filled with working-class ruffians who taunted nancy boys on narrow, cobblestone streets.

Only ghosts of that bleak image remain.

Manchester's "gayfest" is overwhelming.

August temperatures (59°F-71°F) are an exquisite escape from Dallas' endless weeks of 105-and-above summers. Last week, rainy mornings dried into cloudy afternoons. At night, the village lanes were ideal for dancing and cooling off while a sea of gays and lesbians club hopped along the streets, which are closed to automobiles during Pride.

The village is concentrated around Canal Street: And when the first letters are blocked out, the street gets the affectionate nickname "Anal Treet." The bustling district is home to 30 or so queer taverns.

At Velvet, the walls are lined in downy burgundy drapes where guests chill to old-skool black-mama disco at cabaret tables or boogie on its wooden dance floor.

Baa Bar is a poptastic pub for the under-30 set. Company is a basement enclave for the leather and Levis crowd. Cruz attracts sporty lads — but not the shirtless, tweaking muscle queens. It's a place where butch blokes flex their nelly side on the dance floor.

With its front balcony, the three-story Manto was featured in the first episode of "Queer as Folk," a big club that serves food. Next door, Spirit is a stylish multi-level club that attracts dancers — where white boys bust pop 'n' lock moves and Irish jig steps.

Via is decorated like a traditional wine lodge: On the street level, bearded-drag act The Lillettes strip off layers of gowns to disco hits. And in Via's basement, disco bunnies hop to mashups in the dark, wooded dancehall.

Gays and lesbians mix freely in these bars, but Vanilla is where the ladies hang — a casual pub where during Pride month foursomes of lesbians sat at tables and answered five-part trivia pursuit about "The L Word."

In 2008, Pride celebrated its 18th year. It began as a community endeavor to raise money to care for locals living with HIV. During Pride's final weekend, participants can only enter the Gay Village if they've purchased a wristband.

Proceeds from the wristbands fund Manchester's HIV charities.

This year's main-stage acts included Boy George at the turntables, Irish electronica diva Roisin Murphy, pop beauty queen Sophie Ellis-Bextor and powerhouse vocalist Angie "I'm Gonna Get You, Baby" Brown.

​Some parade entries were standouts. The SLUTS — the Salford Ladies United Temperance Society, is a group of men in old-lady drag who march with "Sodomy Stinks" signs as they spray disinfectant and try to shame parade-goers.

​But the best entries were the HIV service organizations, which featured clients proudly dancing. The HIV floats had the best sound systems and made everyone confront the fact that shame has no place at a Pride event.

On the final night of Pride, the community gathers for an HIV candlelit vigil. Thousands turn out for a poignant experience. As a surprise, Manchester homegirl Heather Small of M People sang "Proud" as the message was brought home to eradicate the stigma of HIV. Then a dazzling display of fireworks burst from the rooftops of the gay village. Manchester's HIV vigil is nothing short of awesome.

Not all of the evening Pride events take place in the village.

For circuit boys, University Challenge is arguably better than most American circuit bashes. The University of Manchester's Student Union becomes a super-club: Two buildings with four music venues are bisected by a mini amusement park — like at the end of "Grease." Even when it's raining at 1 a.m., you could ride the twirling, dizzying Xtreme or Tagada Spin. 

Another party is HMS Federation, which was held at a 1920s dancehall where shirtless muscle gods donned sailor hats and worshiped all night at the cha-cha altar.

For the kinky set, men and women can attend Manfest, which was held beneath the Manchester train station. Not far from the dance floor is a BDSM area with whipping, blindfolded electrocution and even body stretching demonstrations.

If a trip to Manchester doesn't coincide with Pride, there's still plenty to see. 

A visit to the grand Town Hall is a must. In the main building, look for a brass plaque that recognizes the Feb. 20,1988 protest. That's when 20,000 — including Ian McKellen — gathered to disapprove of Section 28, a local government act that outlawed schools from "promoting" homosexuality. ​

Log Cabin Republicans might be startled if they come across an enormous statue of Abe Lincoln. The monument marks Lincoln's thanks to Manchester's cotton workers who supported the fight against slavery.

The Urbis Exhibition Center is a neo-modern four-story museum that's free. A panel near the lift quotes Morrissey's "Suffer Little Children," "Manchester, so much to answer for." 

Current exhibits include "My First Pride," a small photo show that captures achievements in dignity.

Also at the Urbis, the career of a gay Mancunian native is chronicled in "Matthew Williamson: 10 Years in Fashion." Exotic and experimental, the fashion designer's work fiercely rebels against Manchester's often-foggy grey palette. Williamson's first runway show, at London Fashion Week 1997, featured Kate Moss and Helena Christianson. Williamson has also designed for Kylie Minogue, Britney Spears and Sienna Miller.

Also on exhibit, is Paul Harfleet's "The Pansy Project," which examines homophobia and public spaces. Between 2003 and 2005, Harfleet revisited places where he experienced homophobic abuse. Once there, he planted pansies — tiny, delicate flowers struggling to survive. An example is a photograph of a freshly planted violet flower with velvety petals on a muddy cobbled-street titled "Fuck off and die, Faggots!" taken at Tottenham Court Road in London.

​German architect Daniel Libeskind's The Imperial War Museum is a futuristic building that reflects the serious nature of a collection based on global conflict. In an abstract way Libeskind explodes Planet Earth into three broken fragments, which are then reshaped to form the building's trippy design. 

A Norse goddess made of disco-ball mirrors greets guests at one of Manchester's newest restaurants, which serves tasty sushi and sashimi and has a distinct nightclub vibe. Recent diners include Jay-Z, Pharrell Williams, and Victoria and David Beckham. Almost every inch of the decor is black glass and ebony fabric with eye-popping silver glitter and gleaming steel.

In the the newly refurbished ABode Hotel, Michael Caines offers two eating experiences: the informal street-level Cafe & Bar and the shmancy lower-level restaurant, which serves
modern Euro tapas-style dishes: Pan-fried foie gras with orange braised chicory, caramelised walnuts and home-cured beef bresoala and marinated veggies

For modem Italian cuisine — chicken-chillipizzas and Cajun pasta — Albert's Shed is the location of an old lockkeepers cottage in the Castlefield canal basin.

To re-invent the ultimate Patsy and Edina "Ab Fab" experience, go to the bustling brassiere on the second floor at Harvey Nichols. Kylie Minogue was a recent guest at the cocktail bar, which is the epitome of cutting edge design and has the best views overlooking Exchange Square. The service at Harvey Nick's restaurant is flawless, and the menu has classic ingredients like terrine of ham hock, parsley and sweet garlic, combined with European influences like French-style braised rabbit leg with Meaux mustard.

Hip, retro and delicious, Room is near Manchester's fashion-design district. The menu is a mix of contemporary and the antique: starters like beans-on-toast and grilled rare-breed pork with Béarnaise sauce. With its soaring ceilings and wooden spiral staircase, walking into Room is like stepping back into time with an ultra-lounge backbeat: Prime Minister Winston Churchill was a regular at this old Reform Club, which dates back to 1871. And Room was where Kylie Minogue brought her staff on last year's comeback tour

A two-minute walk from Piccadilly Train Station, ABode Manchester opened in March 2008. About three blocks from the Gay Village, the 62-room boutique hotel recently underwent a multi-million dollar transformation. It still retains the period character of its original purpose — a Victorian cotton merchant's warehouse. Rooms start at $230 per night with complimentary WiFi.

In ’99, I spoke with then-badass-teen Jessica Campbell, who played Tammy Metzler — a Ross Perot-like lesbian in the holds-up-very-well comedy "Election."

Campbell's unexpected death at 38 was just announced.

Depicting an adolescent dyke

Actress Jessica Campbell on the challenges of playing a thoughtful and sensitive teenage lesbian in Election

By DANIEL KUSNER 

An enormous number of recently released films depict the lives of high schoolers: Varsity Blues, Cruel Intentions, She's All That, Go, Jawbreaker, Rushmore, etc. 

But Election, starring Matthew Broderick and Reese Witherspoon, has one character that'll leave queer moviegoers thrilled when leaving the theater.

Jessica Campbell plays Tammy Metzler, a rebellious teenager who challenges her brother in the race for school president when she finds out he's dating her ex-girlfriend. 

Campbell, who was only 14 years old when she accepted the role, says she was uneasy about playing an adolescent dyke at first.

"I didn't know if I could do it. Because it was so beyond anything I've ever done — especially the whole lesbian thing," she says. "I live in a neighborhood where it isn't completely okay yet if you're gay. So even just to play a gay person kind of scared me."

Playing a lesbian became an easier decision when Campbell realized that her's was the most honorable character in the film.

"Once I read through the script, I realized that she was really the most stable, thoughtful, sensitve person in the whole thing. She's the closest one to a good person. So that made it okay," says Campbell.

Election is based on a novel by Tom Perrotta. ​

The story was inspired by two events: the 1992 Presidential Election campaign and an incident where a conservative high school principal in the South invalidated a prom-queen election because the winner was pregnant.

Perrotta found the 1992 election intriguing because of third-party candidate Ross Perot — a "wild card" who gained attention by attacking the entire system as fraudulent. So Perrotta evoked a similar outsider, third-party candidacy with the lesbian character Tammy.

Campbell says that her personality is altogether different from the rebellious Tammy — another factor that made the part challenging. 

In one scene, the candidates deliver speeches.

When it's Tammy's turn, she asks the audience of students, "Who cares about this stupid election?"

​"In reality, I'm really not that kind of person at all — I try to follow the rules," says Campbell. "I'm kind of a goody two-shoes. So just the thought of standing up and making that kind of speech in front of teachers and other peers was completely different from the kind of person I am."

Campbell got her start when she began taking acting classes in the second grade. 
​
She quickly won the attention of a talent agent in her hometown of St. Louis and was cast in the lead role of the telefilm In the Best Interest of the Children, starring opposite Sarah Jessica Parker and Sally Struthers.

Jessica Campbell's "Election" screen partner — actress Frankie Ingrassia (who plays Lisa) — let me know that a Jessica Campbell Memorial GoFundMe is up to help Jessica's 10-year-old son, Oliver.

​On Oct. 24, 1963,  ​Dallas' 'City of Hate' nickname was coined.

That's when Cora Lacy Frederickson assaulted Ambassador Adlai Stevenson at Dallas’ Memorial Auditorium Theater.

​Coincidentally, on Oct. 24 2020,  twitter's Amy Gruesome @flawwsome1 published a photo that went viral.

A swastica was discovered in Dallas near Reunion Tower, on Dallas city garage.

On Tuesday, our Supreme Court will hear about a skydiving instructor who was fired for disclosing his sexual identity. ​

Texas' legal experts predict that gender discrimination will soon encompass protections for LGBTQ employees.

Like Texas Lawyer magazine's brilliant Mike Maslanka, who anticipates a wonderful outcome — even during a Trump Administration.

A few months ago in South Austin, I co-hosted a sports podcast with Chad Holt and his son. 

Chad commented on the game with both his head and the microphone resting on a bed pillow.

Chad never left his bed. Instead of whining about feeling sick, Chad acted as if his mattress was a La-Z-Boy recliner.

The studio was filled with neatly stacked piles of newspapers.

Chad published Whoopsy! magazine.

Whoopsy! was like Austin’s gonzo version of Rolling Stone. And Chad was its Hunter S. Thompson.

Chad gracefully shifted opposing topics — like connecting Ann Coulter’s horse-face to an argument about evolution.    

Over the past year, Chad and I hung together in Austin. Probably three times. 

He wasn’t always bedridden. 

We sweated it out while walking from Adam Reposa’s law office near the Texas Capitol over to Sarah Weddington's nearby leadership center and then downhill to the Colorado River. That's where we downed hot coffee while Chad inhaled home-rolled cigarettes. 

On Sixth Street, we chowed on burgers at The Jackalope. That's where we snapped a selfie, above, as we vied for the affections of our favorite Texan, web-design goddess Beth Sams.

During the recent “Sports Karaoke” episode, one of the fellow podcasters cracked an off-the-cuff joke about the “need” for printed media. I raised an objection with the authority of a Texan defending the Bill of Rights. 

Chad and I fist bumped. 

When I wrote about biking through Austin, I consulted with Mr. Badass himself. 

Here’s what Chad said. 

ONE LAST THING

During one of our recent walks, Chad expressed his sincere respect for Louis Black, founding publisher of The Austin Chronicle.

Chad and Black's SXSW festival have a storied history that's stitched into the documentary "Total Badass," which is worth watching.

Rest in power, Chad. 
(Whoopsy daisy.)

This afternoon, two of my favorite muses Jenna Skyy and Cassie Nova lend their interpretive artistry to "Tall Tales and High Heels," a storytime event at Grauwyler Park Branch Library.

How did I find out?

A group of Catholics sent a press release saying they've organized a "Rosary Protest." 

The group is called Tradition, Family and Property. Their website is ReturnToOrder.org. 

Why protest?

TFP states, "Because the Drag Queen Story Time for 3 to 6 year-olds is a serious offense against God and scandalizes children."

The release continues, "Whatever happened to the time when the protection of children's innocence was a non-negotiable social norm? 
Even rough men watched their language and mannerisms when children or ladies were around.
Vulgarity, bad habits and vice were concealed so as to not destroy the innocence of a child."

Well, Dallas. Look for yourselves. 

Witness Jenna in super-heroine action at last year's story time at J. Eric Jonsson Library, named after the brilliant founder of Texas Instruments — a company that could see into the future. 

The skillfully produced “Civil Rights” segment aired that same day for a 7:30 p.m. broadcast. 

VICE’s immigration correspondent David Noriega visits Big D. The story begins with stomach-churning clips of Muhlaysia being savagely beaten. 

Then there’s my footage.